


Connect

by Skylar_Matthews



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:49:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1230457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylar_Matthews/pseuds/Skylar_Matthews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the worst thing your enemy does isn't by their own hands, but what they make your allies do. Kink meme fill that's a lot of h/c shown in reverse. (Anon commenting is on.)</p><p>This isn't nearly as dark as it sounds. Yet. Beware the chapter marked 'Flashbacks' when it gets posted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pjlover666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjlover666/gifts).



> For this prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=13988864#t13988864
> 
> Originally posted here: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11556.html?thread=14021668#t14021668
> 
> De-anoning because it's getting annoying to separate each part into numerous comments and because I only didn't post here to begin with so my girlfriend didn't run across it unexpectedly. I drew emotionally off of experiences we've both had and I wanted to be sure she knew what she was getting into if she ever did read. She's read through now though.
> 
> Minor editing done between the original post and now because I found some dumb mistakes I'd made.

Prowl sat down heavily next to Jazz on the berth. The spy was idly playing with a half full cube of energon, gaze cast down.

“This has gone one long enough. What happened Jazz?” Prowl quietly asked, showing the first bits of concern. At first, he had believed Jazz was being stubborn and teasing him. But as time went on, Prowl realized that his friend was avoiding him.

Jazz was avoiding _**him**_.

“You won’t talk to me anymore.” Prowl kept speaking, “you won’t even look at me.” Saying that, he gently reached over and lifted Jazz’s chin so the mech would look at him.

The spy pulled away. “You’re over thinking things, Prowler.”

“Am I?” Prowl asked. “You’ve been avoiding me. And… you’ve been far more agitated lately. You sent Sunstreaker to the med bay the other orn.”

“We were sparring.”

“Yet, you’ve never put a mech into the med bay for that before.”

Jazz didn’t respond. Prowl tried to reach for him again, but he pulled away.

“Ever since we were rescued, you haven’t let me touch you. We're friends Jazz, please?”

The cube Jazz was holding cracked from the pressure. Jazz sighed. “Look, just give me time, okay? I’ll be fine. Just… give me some space, yeah?”

“I will,” Prowl answered honestly. “I will back away, but you need to give me a reason. What happened over there Jazz? Please talk to me, you know I don’t remember.”

“There’s a reason you don’t remember,” Jazz whispered.

“Why?” Prowl pressed.

“Because I made you forget.” Finally, finally Jazz looked at Prowl. “I blocked your memories.”

“You… what?” Prowl froze. He gathered himself, before asking again, trying to keep his voice steady and not offended. “Why?” Jazz had no right to tamper with his memories. True, they were friends and perhaps Prowl even considered them more but… touching one’s memories wasn’t something you simply brushed off.

“It’s complicated. Let’s just leave it at that.” Jazz narrowed his visor and had to look away again.

“Why?” Prowl asked, and when Jazz refused to answer he repeated the question, putting more force into it. “Why, Jazz?”

“For protection,” Jazz bit out.

“Protection?” Prowl repeated, frowning. Then came understanding, “….to protect me? Jazz, whatever they did to me, I can handle it—“

“It’s not like that!” Jazz spat the words and stood up, starting to pace.

Prowl just stared at the sudden outburst. “Then tell me! What happened?”

Growling, Jazz stopped and turned to glare at Prowl, “Because they didn’t manage to hack your files. But they were able to get into your head. They re-programmed you, albeit partially. They changed you!”

“Then how come this is upsetting you?” Prowl asked, scowl in place. “I was the one who got hacked!”

Jazz gave him a strained smile, not able to hide the hurt. “Because they controlled you. You were just a puppet for them to play with. And I was so worried that they'd do such horrible things to you, but I was proved the Decepticon cruelty really has no boundaries.”

“What happened?” Prowl forced his wings still.

“They made you rape me.” Jazz hissed, finally letting the truth out. “Over and over and over again! And at one point, I wasn’t even sure if they were in charge or not! Because you kept doing it even after they had left!”

Prowl froze. "I... what?" The question came out in a whisper. He didn't remember anything but surely that couldn't have happened. He would never do such a thing, and certainly not to Jazz. And yet... Something horrible had happened to open this gaping chasm between them, and Jazz had mentioned reprogramming...

It seemed like an eternity before Prowl managed to find any words to speak. "What can I do to help you? How do we recover from this?"

"I told you, I just need time to work through this." The pause in conversation and oh-so-typical-Prowl response had, for now, defused most of Jazz's myriad mess of emotions and he dropped back down onto the berth. And if he left a less than subtle physical distance between them, it was something he hoped wouldn't be commented on. "Some time and some space... A chance to be alone to process."

"Jazz...-"

"No. I do need this Prowl." Jazz forced himself to look at Prowl, meeting his optics. "I've never really felt fear before, it's just not something that's ever been in my coding, but I'm terrified right now. Of you. Of being around you, alone with you... That we didn't get rid of all the bad code and you might do that again..."

"Alright."

"That's it? 'Alright?' But you-"

"I was just going to say 'I'll miss you but I accept your needs. When you're ready you know where to find me.'" Prowl offered a sad smile as he stood. Normally a gentle touch somewhere innocent helped show the other he was safe but Prowl was rather certain that would only exacerbate the situation presently. "You aren't the only one who needs some time to process this."

"But you don't even remember." It was half statement, half question, and for a moment Jazz was torn between reaching out to have Prowl stay and chasing him away if somehow the memories had been unlocked by the conversation. Instead, he did neither and just remained on the berth because he also felt as if he moved at all it would only be to curl in on himself.

"No, I don't, but just what you've told me does have horrible implications. Reprogramming works best when the subject is previously inclined to the new behavior."

Jazz had no response for that but Prowl didn't seem to expect one and moments later the door slid shut behind him, leaving Jazz alone in his quarters.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next quarter vorn it became increasingly difficult to find either mech; Prowl holing up in his office and taking on ever increasing workloads while Jazz claimed frequent missions or just generally vanished. The latter was often commented on, a betting pool had even sprung up over the cause or what Jazz was plotting, while the former not so much. But no one seemed to notice or remark about the fact that they were never seen together. While not an overly common occurrence before, now it never happened.

And the situation might have continued on this way indefinitely if not for the war going on around them, and in particular a battle that began just outside the base on one of the rare occasions that Jazz was present.

~

The battle was proceeding much as they generally do; both sides giving some shots and taking some hits but neither army was ever able to gain any real advantage. And then came a troubling message across the Autobot comm line.

 _:I've lost sight of Soundwave.:_

_:Saw him headed towards sector 12:_

_:Can anyone confirm?:_

_:On my way.:_

The last came from Jazz and Prowl spared a moment to watch him tuck into vehicle mode and head out before returning his focus to the battle proper. Generally Prowl would be directing rather than in active combat but today required all the available fighters in the field. Presently he was helping guard Ratchet with Sunstreaker as the medic worked on Sideswipe after an unsuccessful attempt at what the frontliner was tentatively calling 'Seeker Surfing'. Fortunately he hadn't been offlined but unfortunately for Sideswipe his injuries were fine enough now that he had to endure a 'lecture' from Ratchet on stupidity and how close he had come to offlining as the rest of the important wounds were treated.

The area was mostly clear of Decepticons, Sideswipe having collided with the ground a bit to the side of the main battlefield, so Prowl took the small chance to bask in a situation that was so normal. At least until he realized there had been no update on where the telepath was. On habit, Prowl opened a private comm to Jazz.

_:Have you located Soundwave?:_

When there was no response a frown appeared on the tactician's faceplates. They might have agreed to give one another some space but surely Jazz wouldn't ignore him in the middle of a battle. He certainly hoped not anyway. Perhaps Jazz had simply set Prowl's personal frequency to ignore. That had to be the more reasonable answer (no matter how much the thought hurt.)

Trying again, Prowl spoke over the open Autobot lines. _:Do we have confirmation on Soundwave's whereabouts?:_

Several voices chimed in varying negative responses but Jazz wasn't among them. That did not bode well and Prowl's spark sank. Soundwave was known to be able to disrupt communication lines and while it may only be that Jazz was within range of that, there were a myriad of other explanations as well and many of those included grievous injury or worse.

"Something's wrong," Prowl commented aloud, drawing the attention of both twins though Sideswipe's was quickly turned back to Ratchet. "Jazz isn't responding." He was silent a moment and then, "Sunstreaker, stay with your brother and when Ratchet's finished, both you and Sideswipe should protect him. I'll go see what's happened."

And before any of the three could comment, Prowl transformed and sped off in the same direction Jazz had. Sector 12 was just past a low ridge, not far off at all from where Sideswipe had landed. It held very little at all and was predominantly defined by the high cliffs that surrounded 3/4s of the sector. Unless one was incredibly adept at scaling mountains that ran at a roughly 95 degree angle it was only useful as an unexpected dead end. There was certainly no reason for going that direction unless the intent was to lure the enemy into a trap.

His spark constricting as the thought of a Decepticon trap crossed his processor, Prowl increased his speed. Jazz had to still be online, he just had to be.

Prowl soon reached the scene and barely paused to take in the situation before acting. Soundwave was looming over Jazz, who was mostly seated on the ground and didn't seem to be reacting. The telepath held no weapon and was too far away to touch Jazz, but he was still far too close. So Prowl drove at him. Only after Soundwave was forced to move away or be hit did Prowl start to slow and then transform back to root mode to check on Jazz.

The saboteur seemed perfectly fine physically but he was entirely unresponsive. Even to the calling of his own designation. Prowl was about to try touching him, shaking him, something -anything- to get a reaction, when movement behind the tactician caught his attention.

Prowl spun to face Soundwave, still a ways away yet, and anger immediately swelled within him. "I swear, if you've done anything to hurt him..."

"Soundwave: has not injured Jazz." Prowl's scowl only deepened but Soundwave continued. "Prowl: has hurt Jazz."

The words were barely out of the telepath's vocalizer before he had to dodge an acid pellet. Prowl had drawn his gun and was already lining up for a second attack when the cassetticons entered the fight. Rather than being released from Soundwave however, they seemed to spring up out of the sparse cover of scenery.

Even with the five of them working together, Prowl wasn't going down easy. At every opportunity he knocked one away or deflected an attack only to have another two aimed his way. It was complicated but hardly impossible combat. Then Rumble decided to pull out his piledrivers and, by unfortunate coincidence, managed to land a blow that connected with one of the tactician's doorwings.

Giving a sharp cry, Prowl went down easily after that.

~

He didn't know where he was but it was dark and he hurt. It wasn't a physical pain though, more like it was something spark deep. But that didn't make sense. He'd been fighting so his frame should hurt.

Fighting... yes, there had been a battle. He'd been involved, and then they'd lost track of Soundwave...

That's right, he'd been trying to deal with Soundwave. That would explain the mental strain, and now that he was paying attention to it, the telepathic invasion was rather obvious.

Except Soundwave hadn't gone after anything actually important, just some memories. 

A mental groan occurred when he noticed which memories. That would explain his other pains, but not why he was allowed this respite.

Where was Soundwave that he was free to wander his own mind again?

Like a laser blast in the dark, a scream seared across his consciousness and he was pulled out of the relative peace of his thoughts by a voice he knew well. " _Prowl!_ "

Jazz was up and rushing towards the pile of cassettes where they had downed the tactician before he'd even scanned the area but that didn't matter. All he cared about was making sure the other wasn't deactivated.

Jazz had only just managed to pull the second attacker, Frenzy, off of Prowl's supine form when they all completely disengaged. Possibly a retreat order he might theorize later but for now all Jazz's focus was on the mech laying on the ground before him; bits of his armor cracked and even striped away in some sections. The saboteur wondered for a moment how the cassetticons could have gotten the upperhand so thoroughly until he noticed the fracture lines sprawled across the far doorwing and winced.

_:Ratchet! Prowl's down and needs immediate assistance.:_

~

"Sunstreaker, stay with your brother and when Ratchet's finished, both you and Sideswipe should protect him. I'll go see what's happened."

The twins exchanged a look as Prowl raced off and after a moment Sideswipe spoke. "You should go, make sure he stays safe." Sunstreaker looked about to comment but Sideswipe continued on to keep him quiet. "Ratch is almost done with me and we know he's not thinking clearly. You shoulda been sent instead because we're better fighters. Plus it's Soundwave and where he is so are his brats. 'sides, only one of us needs to protect the Hatchet, with his aim- Ow!"

Said medic had revealed himself to be listening to them by connecting his wrench to the red twin's helm and only after did Sunstreaker sigh and grumble out a, "fine," clearly unhappy with the situation. He did however tuck into vehicle mode and head off after the tactician.

He arrived on the scene just as Prowl fired his first shot and immediately turned his course to aim at Soundwave in a maneuver remarkably similar to the tactician's initial attack. However, Sunstreaker transformed before hitting the telepath and let his momentum carry him into Soundwave, knocking both to the ground where they immediately began fighting to pin one another. The struggle was short lived though and the Autobot frontliner quickly had the advantage, which he put to use with several deft blows to what seemed like pivotal or vulnerable points on the larger mech.

But Soundwave never stopped struggling and managed to knock the other off of himself. Rising to his pedes, Soundwave issued a fallback order to his cassettes before taking to the skies himself. They would regroup at the predesignated location and then Soundwave would inform Megatron that he should give the retreat order to the army proper.

Unfortunately Sunstreaker was knocked too far away to reach Soundwave before the telpath left the ground and could only glare as the Decepticon flew away. Only then did he bother to look around for the other Autobots. In the distance he noticed a bit of movement that was probably a scared bit of wildlife in the area so he dismissed it.

The real sight was the battered body of the army's second in command leaking energon in a slow but steady flow onto the ground beneath him. It startled the yellow twin in ways he didn't want to think about. Sure he didn't particularly like the mech (and really who did like the uptight aft?) but he didn't like most other Autobots and the tactician had managed to earn a bit of respect from him. It was why Sideswipe had been able to convince him to follow. They both had at least a shred of respect for the mech, though Sideswipe liked to show his by challenging Prowl to figure out new punishments almost ornly sometimes, and to see him so weakened wasn't right at all.

Sunstreaker was pulled out of his musings when Ratchet came racing up in alt mode and began working on Prowl. Soon enough Sideswipe joined them and shortly after Ratchet transformed back to altmode and had the three of them, the twins and Jazz, carefully load Prowl into the back of his vehicle mode. When they were done Ratchet drove off, leaving them to transform and follow him back to base.


	3. Chapter 3

Prowl onlined with a mildly disoriented processor and a dull ache, well, everywhere to find a visored face casually watching him from a seat placed berthside.

"Jazz?" In his surprise at his visitor, Prowl quickly tried to shoot up to sitting as he spoke, only to be thwarted by pain. "You're alright? What hap--ah!" The minor soreness he'd felt after onlining had multiplied into a throbbing pulse that stole even the ability to think from him.

"Take it easy there," Jazz was saying when Prowl was able to focus again. "Ratchet'll offline me if ya break yerself again after he just fixed ya up." He hadn't moved yet but now reclined back in the chair where he had previously been perched on the edge, but when Prowl responded with a vague affirmative.

Once the pain had died down enough that he could actually think once more, Prowl found himself speaking. "I didn't expect to see you..."

"Ya almost didn't. I was sure Ratchet'd say no when I asked ta be around when ya woke up but he just grumbled somethin' about us needin' ta work out our issues b'fore we tear the army apart."

Prowl almost shot up again in alarm but the twinge of pain just from the thought stopped his action. However his words were still free to flow. "Why would he let you alone with me if he knows what happened?"

"B'cause he doesn't."

"What? How?"

"I never told."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Sure it does." Jazz leaned forward now to speak, coming almost even with the edge of the berth. "I think he has a few guesses given the nature of injuries I had and the need to remove the bad code from you but I never told anyone. No one but you anyway."

"But why wouldn't you...?"

"B'cause it's not their business, some latent Special Ops protocols and fer the good a' the Autobots."

"I don't understand..."

"Assumin' ya mean the last one since the other two are pretty straightforward, what good would it do if everyone did know what happened? According ta Ratchet moods are already goin' south. I wouldn't know since I'm so rarely on base, which is probably one cause there, and I'm bettin' yer stayin' locked in yer office always, right?" Jazz didn't need to wait for the single nod but he did so anyway. "I'd wager the most common belief is we had a fight. An' if this is how everyone acts when all they think happened is us fightin' then what do ya think they'd do if they found out what really happened? It'd definitely tarnish yer reputation, even though it wasn't really yer fault..."

The very last bit was spoken with an inflection of hopefulness but Prowl found he couldn't respond to it without actually knowing what occurred. Instead he could only give a rather noncommittal, "I see..." before offlining his optics. The lighting had been dimmed but he still felt oversensitized to it.

Silence reigned again until Prowl spoke again, looking once more towards Jazz. The questions tumbled out one after another though he only meant to ask one. "What about the battle? Are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm fine. Can't say we won the fight but we didn't lose either and you were the worst injury. I had ta pull all a' Soundwave's hoard offa ya and Ratchet's pretty sure it was Rumble who smashed yer door..."

At the Praxian's sudden horror, Jazz quickly jumped forward in the tale. "It's alright. Ratchet made sure ta fix that before ya onlined." That seemed to settle the other but Jazz wasn't done yet. "And I woulda made sure of it b'fore he even thought about lettin' ya wake up."

"Why?" There was genuine questioning in the simple word.

"Why what?"

"Why - _how_ \- could you care so much about me after what I did to you?"

"Because I realized something."

"What was that?" Prowl asked with trepidation.

It was a long time before Jazz responded and Prowl was starting to worry he'd pushed too far when the saboteur finally replied. "I can't lose you."

Prowl responded almost too quickly, speaking in the same soft tone Jazz had used. "I don't want to lose you either."

They sat still then, gazes locked as their fields reached out to tentatively brush. Both were seeking validation, fearing rejection and scared almost past their wits. It was a tense moment, broken when Jazz laughed. It was a weak thing, born of nervous energy more than humor, but it did drain the tension away.

"So, I know I haven't exactly been goin' about this recovery thing the best way, tryin' ta avoid the issue an' all ain't workin' this time..." The saboteur offered a sheepish grin. "And I was thinkin' I should try a different method now, if yer willin' ta help?"

Curious but cautious, Prowl replied with a question of his own. "What would you have me do?"

"I was hopin' we could try an' put this whole mess behind us and go back ta how we were before, if yer willing?" There was honest hope in the question. "Yer my closest friend and I feel lost without ya so yeah... Is that good by you?"

A smile crept onto the tactician's faceplates and was quickly matched when he answered. "If you think that would help, then yes. I would certainly like that."

"You have no idea how much I've missed ya," Jazz said then, gently taking hold of Prowl's closer servo with one of his own and squeezing. "I wish I could stay by yer side longer but Ratchet'll reformat me if I don't let him know yer online and I gotta take care 'a the battle reports while yer in here." He flashed a teasing smile. "Hurry up and recover so we can get back ta normal, alright?"

"I'll try." Prowl nodded then watched as Jazz left his seat and crossed the room to the door. He was still smiling even as Ratchet arrived, a warmth he hadn't realized had vanished slowly beginning to fill his spark again.


	4. Chapter 4

Prowl didn't even bother to look up as the door to his office opened. Only a few bots had proper clearance to enter unaided and of those only one didn't bother to announce himself. He hadn't been expecting the team back so soon but they were arguably the very best agents on the Autobot side so it wasn't too surprising.

"The mission went well I take it?"

Only when silence met his question did Prowl look up from the datapad he was reading, just in time to see Jazz drop himself into the other chair and bury his helm with his arms on the desk. "That bad?" he asked cautiously.

Over the past few decaorn since the battle that had sent him to the medbay but started to fix their friendship, Prowl had learned to read several of Jazz's nonverbal cues, ranging from 'I need comfort' to 'don't touch me' and anywhere in between, including various subsets. There were moods when Jazz needed or wanted the contact; and it could be anything from an 'accidental' brush of plating to sitting side-by-side to a simple embrace. Once Jazz had even been visiting with Prowl in his quarters and decided to sprawl across him when the Praxian took a seat on the couch. Not that Prowl minded. These moods were infinitely easier to handle than the bad ones. The times when even so little as their fields mingling or being in the same room could send Jazz into a flashback. In one unforgettable instance, Jazz had been set off just by seeing Prowl _exactly where he expected him to be._ Luckily these instances had yet to happen around the rest of the crew.

The bad times were, thankfully, less frequent, but often much more powerful. And far too often the need for contact would trip some broken line of code and trigger a bad memory, turning any attempt Prowl made to help into something far worse. Jazz never shared what thoughts he got caught in and after the first time Prowl didn't ask again. By the third attack Prowl had learned the quicker he removed all sense of himself from the situation, the quicker Jazz could recover. At present he could do so with scary efficiency, though he silently hoped that he never managed to perfect the method.

This was new though. The spy was clearly distressed but Prowl couldn't be sure if contact would help or hurt so he kept to himself and waited for Jazz to clarify the situation.

"'Raj got hit," Jazz said finally, lifting his helm just enough to be understood.

"How is he now?" Better to ask open ended than to suggest he might be offlined, or worse, expect him online when he wasn't.

"In the medbay. Rest 'a the mission went fine but as we were leavin' he got hit. Was just a stray shot and bad luck 'cause he was cloaked too but it was my fault. If I'da gotten the 'Con down faster he wouldn'ta been hit at all." A groan and Jazz hid his faceplates against the desk again.

Deciding it was worth the risk, Prowl reached out and set one servo gently on the other's top arm. "It's as much my fault as yours then because I planned the mission."

Jazz mumbled something causing Prowl to prompt him with, "I didn't catch that."

"S'not yer fault." His helm turned up to look at Prowl. "Not even you coulda predicted that..."

"Then how could you? It's my job to deduce all potential outcomes and create the best possible plan."

"Plans only work until the enemy knows yer there. Then ya gotta be quick on yer pedes and live in the moment and that's my job."

"And you excel at it too." The tactician wore a soft smile. "But if even I can't be perfect at my job, the safe boring desk job, then why would you expect to be perfect at yours?"

After a few kliks Jazz finally said, "how do ya do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make it sound so simple, so easy, so..."

"Logical?"

Jazz responded with a weak glare before letting his helm drop to its previous location. "I hate you sometimes..."

The comment drew a slight chuckle from Prowl because there was no malice in it. "If that's the case, why did you come here right after your mission?"

"B'cause I knew ya'd understand and I don't have ta save face aroun' ya."

It was unexpectedly candid and Prowl found he had nothing fitting to say in response. Rather, after running a quick list of topics mentally, he decided on a different subject. "How is Mirage anyway? Will I need to remove him from the duty rooster for some time?"

"Nah," Jazz responded, drawing out of reach as he sat up to lounge in the chair properly. "Wasn't much worse than some scorched paint and a couple secondary lines melted. Ratchet should have him finished up already an' then he was gonna have Hound help with the touch up work."

"They've certainly hit it off remarkably well." While Mirage had been part of their base a long time, Hound had only recently been transferred over in a shuffle of personnel when the 'Cons managed to claim another city. No one had expected the two to share even one conversation but somehow they had become fast friends.

"Right? They even surprised me..." Jazz's visor dimmed as he tracked a stray thought before refocusing on Prowl. "That reminds me though, I'm thinkin' about stealin' him inta my department fer a while. Their abilities should work well together and I think they'd make a good team."

"Extended transfer or trial run?"

"Pro'lly just a test run first. Gotta find an easy job and make sure I ain't misjudging them."

"That should be fine." Prowl pulled out a different datapad and made a few notes on it quickly as he spoke. "Hound is a scout, yes? They do fall partially under your jurisdiction so just be sure your trial doesn't interrupt his current schedule, and if they do work as well together as you expect then I'll let you have him."

"I knew ya'd understand," Jazz replied with a bright smile. Prowl barely had time to return it before Jazz jumped topics. "But I gotta be somewhere fer a thing in a bit so we'll hash out details later?"

"Of course," Prowl answered with a single nod. "Enjoy your party and try not to let too much damage occur will you?"

"Never said it was a party," the saboteur teased and then he was at the door. "But we really do gotta get ya ta enjoy one sometime, Prowler." 

A flash of a smile that was both genuine and teasing and then he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

"I fragging hate this!"

Prowl looked up just in time to see the door slide shut behind Jazz as he stormed into his office. They had just seen one another at the officer meeting earlier that morning but he hadn't noticed anything wrong then. Concerned over what he'd missed, Prowl tried to ask but barely managed one word before Jazz continued.

"Every time I think I'm gettin' better an' might be able to get over this, somethin' happens ta set me off worse. I nearly panicked when you an' Ironhide were arguin' over procedures. That ain't right! Nothing in that conversation shoulda affected me that way."

When Jazz dropped into the other chair in defeat, Prowl ventured a question. "So you decide to come see me even though I'm the cause?"

"Well yeah," Jazz replied immediately. "I don't gotta explain fer you and yer safe. Even if I forget that sometimes, ya've always been safe."

Touched and more than a little confused, Prowl stayed silent. It wasn't long before Jazz spoke again.

"I really shouldn't be still dealin' with this though. There's programs and protocols ta make things like this fade from memory after a couple 'a orns. Instead it's only gettin' worse." With his next comment Jazz shot up out of his chair and started pacing to the door and back. "Fragging 'Cons! If they'd only picked someone else, _anyone_ else, I'd be over this!"

"Jazz?" The question was asked carefully. An angry Ops agent was an even more dangerous agent and Prowl could tell he was dancing along the line from indignation to outright anger.

Thankfully, the question did its job of drawing Jazz's attention back outward and he looked to Prowl, suddenly saddened. "Ya don't understand... It's all my fault."

Squashing the instinctive 'that's not true', Prowl kept his tone steady as he said, "then help me understand. Why is it your fault?"

"B'cause they never woulda hurt you if not fer me."

"Could you elaborate?"

With a huff, Jazz found the chair again and dropped into it once more. "I was stupid and let a stray thought slip one time when Soundwave was tryin' ta hack me and that's why the fraggers decided ta use you."

Prowl remained quiet, unsure of how to respond.

"Would ya believe me if I told ya it wasn't what they made ya do that hurt me?" Jazz didn't wait for the answer before moving along. "Tha's far from the worst condition my body's ever been in thanks ta 'Cons, even ignorin' outright torture. No, what makes it so bad is that it was **you**.

"Frag!" Again he was up and pacing. "I swore I wasn't gonna say this ever 'cause I didn't want ya questioning our friendship but since I can't manage ta get past this and it's tearin' us apart anyway I might as well..."

Prowl didn't say anything but Jazz had no doubt he was paying complete attention. Not that it made it any easier to reveal this secret.

"It hurts that they used you and made you do terrible things because a' me. That I didn't try harder ta prevent it after I knew what was happenin' b'cause on some level I wanted it." Jazz had stopped in the middle of the room and let his voice keep dropping lower and lower as he spoke. By the last sentence it was nearly a whisper. "Ya deserve much better than what happened and it's my fault b'cause I've always liked ya and wanted more than just friendship but was too scared a' losin' ya to ask."

"Jazz," Prowl began after a few kliks and it caused a visible shudder in the other. "None of this was your fault. You're just as much a victim in the situation as you're saying I am." He hesitated just the slightest because this was most definitely not the best time for this reveal but at this point there was no good time anymore. "And I would have liked that too."

The last line had an utterly unexpected result, drawing a spiteful comment. "There's no need to humor me. Or was that outright mocking? Ya could have just told me to get out."

"I'm not doing either," Prowl quickly defended. "And you don't have to leave unless you want to."

"Would you stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"Being so accommodating. It's not right. No normal mech does that!" By now Jazz had stalked forward and was staring at Prowl from across his desk, challenging him.

"I don't understand why you won't believe me," Prowl finally commented after a long, tense silence. "I've cared for you for a long time but who would expect a mech like you to want a mech like me? And I wouldn't risk our friendship on a nearly nonexistent probability."

"Yer serious?" When Prowl nodded it caused Jazz to double over in broken laughter. Before he could be questioned though, Jazz spoke. "So all this time we coulda been together and then none a' what happened o'er there woulda had any effect."

"I don't see how that would have prevented what happened," Prowl replied. "If anything, wouldn't it have made them more determined to make it happen?"

"Yeah, maybe, but it wouldn'ta had an affect on me." Jazz fixed Prowl with a steady gaze. "I been hatin' myself b'cause I thought I caused ya ta do something ya never wanted. If we'd been together b'forehand then I'da known ya did want me."

"But I still hurt you..."

"Ops programs make that meaningless," Jazz waved the concern off. "An' if we had been together I coulda made sure ya had the same protocols installed just in case somethin' like this happened."

"So what now?"

Jazz slumped at that. "I dunno... It seems wrong ta ask if yer still interested in me after everything else."

"Jazz." That drew a visored gaze back to his optics. "I would be honored to engage in a relationship with you, if you still want me?"

A bright smile was flashed Prowl's way just before Jazz laughed again, a real laugh this time. "Look who's takin' the initiative fer once."

"We both had interest before and you seem to still be interested and I know I am so it's not imposing too much to make the offer."

"I'm teasin' ya Prowler."

"I know."

"So we're official now?"

"You never answered."

Jazz leaned across the desk and caught Prowl's lip plates with his own in a quick kiss. "If that ain't a yes then I don't know what is."


	6. Chapter 6

"And I **_hurt_** him but I don't have any memory of it and he won't tell me what happened, not that I blame him, but I have no idea what I should or shouldn't do around him now to avoid triggering those memories." Prowl paced as he spoke, doorwings twitching erratically to emphasis different points. "Please... We've been together only a couple decaorn and so far it's gone smoothly enough but I just know something's going to happen -I'm going to do the worst possible thing- and it will all fall apart and I can't...

"I _want_ this to suceed." The sub-glyphs he used spoke of eternal longing and a spark-deep need. It was a term with such depth of emotion it wasn't even taught until adult upgrades. "I can't lose him, and if I mess this up that's the only logical result."

"Sounds like you need to take it slow and make sure you have his acceptance before you do anything."

"That's what I've been doing!"

"And it's been working, right?"

"Yes, but I was hoping you would have advice for when that fails."

"Look, you can out think this entire army so if you haven't come up with a better answer then there isn't one. And if there is, I'm certainly not gonna know it."

"Except this is far from an area I have any expertise in, while you deal with survivors of crisis all the time."

"Yeah, so trust me when I tell you there's no easy answers or quick solutions."

Smokescreen ex-vented when Prowl's posture fell to a defeated pose. "Recovery comes down to how strong the injured party is, how determined they are to get better and the support of loved ones. Jazz has each of those in metaspades so as long as the two a' you go about this intelligently then it'll all turn out well. And you're not the sort to rush in without a thorough plan so his chances are even better.

"I'm not going to lie and say it'll be easy, because that's certainly improbable, but I've never seen you two fail at any task you work together on so I can say with almost 100% certainty that you will succeed."

Prowl hesitated a moment, taking in everything before snapping back to a more habitual stiff posture. "Of course, you're right, thank you." He turned towards the door then, but before opening it turned back. "This is all covered under confidentiality, even from Jazz, correct?"

"Of course," Smokescreen replied, amused in his own mind at the thought of Jazz willingly coming in for anything resembling a psychiatric visit. Even Prowl stopping by 'to talk' was odd enough that it had almost crashed his own, far less sensitive logic coding. But Smokescreen had to admit the other Praxian had needed it and could only hope as he watched him leave that their conversation had helped.

~

"Hey lover."

As the door closed behind him, Prowl was greeted by a cheery voice and familiar field. Automatically Prowl wrapped his arms around the frame that pressed against his, recognizing the clear signs that Jazz was looking for a physical display. The kiss when Jazz leaned in closer was something he hadn't anticipated but Prowl welcomed it readily. 

"So what were ya visitin' ol' Smokey for?" Jazz questioned when they parted.

"I wanted a second opinion for a plan including interpersonal relations and he does fall under my department when I need another tactician."

"Tha's all?" Jazz asked with genuine curiosity as he pulled away and claimed Prowl's servo to lead him down the hall. "Ya felt disappointed when ya left his office."

"I was hoping for a new angle to be presented but all he did was confirm what I had already concluded as the best strategy. It was unfortunate but does happen."

"Often I bet."

"Too true," Prowl agreed with a slight smile as Jazz led them left, towards the Rec Room. Apparently the saboteur was in extremely good spirits today and Prowl was more than happy to oblige.

~

[Earlier]

"Well lookie what we got here," Jazz taunted as he pulled something from the vent in a storage room. "Looks like a lost little kitty cat."

Ravage hissed and tried to maneuver to attack Jazz but he held her just right to prevent her from reaching him at all. So it was time to try a different method. *Drawing on a rarely used skill, she directed a series of thoughts Soundwave had previously lifted from Jazz's mind back at the mech holding her.

Jazz stiffened at the sudden mental onslaught but just huffed as he pushed the thoughts aside. It was nothing he hadn't revisited himself on numerous occasions already.

"Uh uh uh..." he mocked. "Tha's not gonna work on me. It does remind me though..."

Ravage suddenly found herself flying through the air and braced for the shot that was surely coming even as she focused on coordinating her landing. Except no blast ever came. Curious, she turned to survey Jazz and found him holding a gun with the barrel towards the ceiling, watching her watching him.

"Tell yer boss thanks from me. If not fer him I'd never 'a had the courage ta hook up with our second in command." Jazz let the gun drop so it was directed in the general vicinity of the Decepticon. "Now get out. If I find ya still on our base in two breems I'll shoot first and ask questions later. If there's anythin' left a' ya to question."

With a growl that sounded more like a hiss, Ravage slipped out the nearby door. Jazz watched from his place across the room and gave it a few kliks before crossing the room and exiting himself. The gun was subspaced before he reached the door.

A cursory glance up and down the hallway showed no signs of the Decepticat, though he knew that hardly meant anything. Just as Jazz was about to walk off a different door opened a little further down the hall. Smokescreen's office, Jazz noticed belatedly and was just debating slipping back into the other room when Prowl stepped out. Highly unexpected but Jazz could work with that.

"Hey lover."

(*I don't know how canon it is but I read somewhere that Soundwave's 'kids' had the same abilities he did and it stuck with me. In here Ravage can only project thoughts, not true telepathy (unless it's being thought hard enough, then she can probably pick it up).)


	7. Chapter 7

Prowl entered his quarters expecting to find Jazz lounging around as he often did but instead the saboteur was waiting in the middle of the room. As the door shut behind Prowl, Jazz moved forward to claim a kiss before drawing back and taking hold of Prowl's servos. Prowl responded by asking the only thing he could think of to explain such oddities. "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Jazz answered with a smile. "I just wanna try something with ya t'night."

"What's that?"

"I'll let ya know, just trust me?"

"Alright."

With that acceptance, Jazz began to lead Prowl across the room, the latter only hesitating when they reached the berth room door. "Jazz?" he asked, concern creeping into his tone.

"C'mon Prowler," was the only response as Jazz opened the door and brought them inside. He continued to pull Prowl forward until they were at the berth and only then did he let go so he could hop on.

"Jazz... Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Don'cha trust me?" A halfway teasing pout accompanied the question.

"Of course," Prowl answered immediately. "I'm just worried you're rushing and not waiting will set us back."

"We've been t'gether fer metacycles now, I'm hardly rushin' things." Prowl looked ready to argue so Jazz straightened up and continued. "I want this. I want you. Please?"

Prowl debated for a breem before sighing softly, sparking a smile from Jazz. "On one condition."

"Which is?"

"You need to tell me the nanoklik I do something you don't like so we don't wreck what we have."

"That all?"

"This isn't funny, Jazz."

"Yer right, and I swear I'll tell ya if I don't like anythin'. Now will ya quit standin' there and _do_ somethin' already?"

The words were barely out of his mouth before Prowl had moved forward and claimed it, content with that answer. They had taken their relationship slowly and methodically thus far, but they both knew they wanted more and he was nearly as tired of the wait as Jazz was.

"Finally," came the teasing response when they separated.

"Jazz," Prowl started as he joined him on the berth. "Shut up."

"Make me."

Responding to the challenge without hesitation, Prowl leaned in and pressed his lip plating against the saboteur's grin. Jazz in turn deepened the kiss, pressing his frame against Prowl's as their glossa met and entangled. They only pulled apart when someone's fans clicked on.

"Been wantin' ya fer a long time, Prowler." As he spoke, Jazz's servos started to move; soft, exploratory touches before circling back to dip into seams. "Am I ever glad ya said yes."

Prowl responded in kind, stroking plating and toying with wires, while he replied. "You should have said something sooner. I've wanted you probably just as long."

"My bad," Jazz commented before stealing a quick kiss. "But now that I got ya, I ain't lettin' ya go."

Prowl could only moan as Jazz moved onto his doorwings. The gentle touches just served to tease him even as he pulled Jazz closer and pressed his wings into the contact. "That's not fair," he whined when Jazz refused to comply.

"But ya look so beautiful like this," Jazz answered but did relent, running his servos down the edge of Prowl's doorwings. The shiver that motion caused before he even reached the hinges was well worth it but it was those sensitive joints that caused Prowl to cry out his designation.

"One day I'm gonna overload ya just playin' with these beautiful wings," Jazz promised as he withdrew from them. The absence drew a low whine from Prowl but Jazz wasn't done. "Right now though I wanna share our first time together."

" _Yes_ ," Prowl agreed, desire dripping off the word.

Jazz leaned in for another heated kiss as his arms came up to wrap around Prowl's neck before he reclined back to lay on the berth, drawing Prowl down with him. There was no resistance and Prowl quickly picked up where Jazz had left off, drawing a shiver from him by running his servos down the saboteur's sides to rest on his hips. One servo didn't stay there long though, as Prowl brought it over to trace the seam of Jazz's interface panel. It took almost no contact at all before it snapped open.

Jazz whimpered suddenly and his field, which had been full of life and desire, instantly deadened. Prowl quickly pulled his own field back in and backed up until he was pressed against the wall, heedless of the strain it put on his doors. It wasn't as far away as he would usually move but any other direction required him to get near Jazz again.

Several tense breems passed before Jazz uncurled and propped himself up, visor turned towards the doorway. "Prowl?"

"I'm here." It hurt to hear Jazz sound so small and weak, and it hurt even worse knowing he was the reason. "I'm still here."

Jazz moved almost too fast to see, spinning around to make sure before crossing the small space and clinging to Prowl. The tactician's only move was to wrap his arms around the other. The pressure on his doorwings was nothing compared to the pain in his spark. "I'm here as long as you want me around." The reassurances were granted softly but utterly sincere. "I'll never leave you unless you tell me to."

"Don' wantcha gone," Jazz countered. "I wanna be with ya but I'm so pathetic."

"You are not. You suffered something horrible an-"

"Somethin' that shouldn'ta affected me at all!"

"But it did. Whatever the reason, it did this time." Jazz grumbled something under his breath and Prowl responded with a gentle kiss to the top of his helm. "The situation is anything but ideal but we can get through it. Together, if that's what you really want."

"I do. I want you. I want to be with you. I want..." Pulling away enough to shift positions, Jazz drew himself up to meet Prowl's optics. "I wanted us to be a normal couple."

"I would have liked that too," Prowl replied earnestly. "Even if we've never been anything close to 'normal'."

"Ya know what I meant," Jazz retorted dully.

"I'm sorry."

The depth of meaning behind those words was unmistakable and Jazz ex-vented softly before leaning against Prowl again. "I hate that it's my weakness hurtin' us."

Prowl had no response to that and so they sat in silence for a while.

"You haven't had an episode in a while," Prowl finally commented, his voice low. "What set it off this time? I mean, I think I know what caused it but I don't get the why."

"I dunno... Mostly it seems ta only happen when we try somethin' new."

"Hm...." Prowl hummed the sound as he processed that thought. "Perhaps it's the uncertainty? While you only have negative memories of an event to draw from you can only expect it to turn out badly, but once we've proven that logic wrong it's safe to engage in whatever the activity is."

"Sounds as likely as anythin' else. How does that help us?"

"I don't know..."

Jazz huffed weakly, sad more than anything else. "This wasn' how I wanted this night ta turn out."

"I know and I don't blame you but I do appreciate the effort."

They went quiet again then, exchanging gentle touches for comfort rather than to excite this time. It was some time before Prowl spoke again.

"So, I had a thought."

"You? Never!" Jazz replied with feigned shock, a bit of his usual humor creeping back into his tone. Prowl just smiled.

"If it is uncertainty that's causing this, there is a way we could probably cheat around it." Jazz shifted, perhaps to listen better, and Prowl continued. "A way for you to see and know that I never intend to hurt you."

"What are ya thinkin'?" His tone suggested he had a guess but wasn't going to share it.

"We could do a merge." It was a statement but there was just enough inflection at the end to turn it into a question too.

Jazz sat up and turned to Prowl, catching his gaze. "Yer serious?"

A spark merge was a serious step. While it wouldn't bond two bots unless they shared frequently, it was still a highly personal matter. Merging allowed for sharing of everything a bot was and though there were a few ways to block memories or thoughts, things could still slip through even then. It was an act of trust and dedication that many mechs and femmes rarely engaged in even before the war and far, far fewer since.

"I would face down the Unmaker himself if I thought it would help you, Jazz. This? I would consider it an honor if you agree, even though the circumstances are far from ideal."

Jazz was left speechless in a way he'd never known before. He had hoped to bring up the idea of bonding eventually, sometime in the distant future when he'd recovered and the war was over, but he'd never expected Prowl would suggest even this much!

Taking the silence as doubt, Prowl quickly added more. "If you're worried about your safety I do have an old pair of cuffs that you're free to use on me."

"Kinky," Jazz replied finally. "But I think we can save those fer another time. I do believe ya that ya don' wanna hurt me but seein' fer myself might help an' more importantly it'd be rude a' me ta decline such a generous offer." A moment's hesitation and then, "did ya wanna do this right now then?"

Prowl nodded and sent the commands that would retract his armor and reveal his essence. "Better now than later, lest we convince ourselves against this."

"Makes sense," Jazz commented casually as he watched Prowl's spark chamber, the very core of the mech before him, spiral open to allow him access. Transfixed, the saboteur watched the spark as it pulsed in its casing, teasing and inviting him to touch. Casually Jazz reached in and carefully traced the opening.

Prowl twitched very slightly and gave a low moan. While not nearly as sensitive as other parts, the spark chamber had a very erotic effect for the fact it was so vital and sealed away so deeply.

Jazz could only watch as a couple tendrils of spark energy found his servo and wound around his arm. A slight movement brought more sounds from Prowl as the energy tendrils dissipated and Jazz smirked. Carefully he reached in to caress the outer edge of Prowl's spark, loving the reactions it drew. There was so much power in this moment; he could cause pleasure or pain with equal effort and the mech beneath him wouldn't be able to stop him. Wouldn't even know what was coming if Jazz did choose to hurt him. It would be so easy too; to cause pain to the one who had hurt him. All he needed was to put pressure on the spark that was readily accessible. A little could be pleasurable but a little more and it was pain and a little too much and the spark almost always extinguished. He couldn't help wondering if this mech would be one of those few to survive or if he too would die. It wouldn't be hard to try, all he had to do was apply the right amount of pressure...

"Jazz!" Prowl gasped out, snapping Jazz out of his dark reverie. The saboteur cautiously withdrew his servos, horrified at himself, and waited frozen in place as Prowl slowly came down from the brink of an overload.

"I know you like to experiment," Prowl began when he could speak again, utterly unaware of what had nearly just happened, "but is this really the time for it?" Normally he would have been perfectly fine with allowing Jazz to do as he pleased but they did have a purpose to this and he didn't want them to forget it, lost in the experience.

"I'm sorry."

There was more depth to those words than necessary for the situation but Prowl didn't get much time to think about it because Jazz's chestplates were retracting. His chamber remained shut though, but before Prowl could ask Jazz spoke.

"Prowl... are you sure?"

"I trust you, Jazz."

The sincerity in those few words hurt Jazz even worse after what he'd nearly done but he let none of it show as he let his spark casing open. He almost faltered. He almost hesitated, which would have stopped him doing this at all. But Jazz had always been one to take risks and he moved forward to bring their sparks together.

Sensation overwhelmed them both for a klik before fading away into the background, leaving just the vague sense of either mech and then the impression of what could be both but was currently neither. The part that was mainly Prowl beckoned, allowing free access to anything and everything. The part that was mostly Jazz moved without moving to accept the offer and began to wander randomly through what he found. Honor, dedication, self assurance all colored most of the memory impressions but there were also undertones of self sacrifice, self deprecation and sorrow scattered frequently throughout. The first true happiness came with memories from long ago in their friendship but as he hit more recent memories they predictably held sadness at least as often as cheer. Nowhere did he find any truly malicious intent however, even for some mechs who honestly deserved it.

Slowly the presence that was Jazz withdrew, still debating how to reciprocate. There was no hiding what he was feeling in the moment though and the sense of Prowl sent reassurance and unconditional acceptance. Decided, the Jazz section offered himself completely but not without another faint pulse of worry. The part that was Prowl returned warmth and comfort and something the part that was Jazz could only label as love and was quick to pulse back.

Surprising to both, that sent a charge through the frames they could suddenly feel again; both their own and the other's. The Jazz presence gave the impression of a smirk and the Prowl side shared a thought, sent on a wave of amusement. 'Going to experiment again?'

In response, another pulse of love was sent, and then returned. The charge between their frames spiked higher and higher again. The side that was Jazz shared amusement as well on his next pulse and the section consisting mainly of Prowl returned both in equal parts with a hint of mischief of his own.

Splitting his focus partially back into his frame, Prowl reached up and brought one servo to caress Jazz's faceplates before moving higher on his helm. As he sent back a strong wave through the spark connection, he also took hold of one of Jazz's sensor horns and stroked the sensitive appendage.

It gained the desired result, pushing Jazz over the edge into overload which brought Prowl along too. Their world faded away in a blinding whiteness, after which had each of their spark chambers resealing and armor resettling as the pair slowly returned to consciousness.

"Wow..."

"I agree."

"I hope that helped," Prowl said, "but it was enjoyable either way."

"It was," Jazz agreed. "But it's not somethin' we should pro'lly do again anytime soon."

There was an undercurrent of guilt that said he meant it more than simply because of the bonding risk and Prowl couldn't help himself from asking. "Jazz? What happened?"

The saboteur didn't answer at first and Prowl had begun to casually stroke his backstrut before Jazz did speak, the comforting motion soothing away some of his fear. "I... Prowl, I nearly crushed yer spark. I don' even know what came o'er me but I nearly ended ya an' I won' risk that again."

Jazz ducked his helm against Prowl again and the tactician took the time to determine a proper response. When he did finally speak there was acceptance in his field. "Jazz... I trust you implicitly. If you'd thought I deserved to be offlined for what I did to you then I wouldn't have argued. At all. But you didn't. I can't be sure what caused this but you clearly don't actually want me offline or I would be. You are too good at what you do for anyone to survive if you don't want them to."

"How can ya have so much faith in me?"

"The same way you've managed to trust me after what happened."

"True...." Jazz sat up then. "C'mon, let's reposition. This can't feel good fer yer wings."

Prowl leaned forward and said parts flicked stiffly. "It didn't, but I had more pressing concerns than a mild discomfort." Another flick. "I had almost forgotten it hurt at all."

He didn't resist as Jazz drew him further up the berth nor as they settled in together. Words were unnecessary for the task as gentle touches said enough in the companionable silence. They only spoke once more apiece, a simple wish of good night from each with enough emotional undertones to fill an entire conversation.


	8. Chapter 8

Jazz was in the middle of spinning a tale to a devoted table of possibly mildly overcharged mechs when Sideswipe nudged him, none too gently, with a pointed look towards the doorway. Jazz turned to check it out and his grin instantly brightened. Catching Prowl's optics, he tilted his helm in a 'come here' gesture and got the faintest hint of a smile in response before Prowl turned towards the energon dispenser. Content, Jazz returned full attention to his listeners again. Not once did his story falter.

It was only a few kliks before he heard someone come up behind him and Jazz reached his field out in welcome. Only after the feeling was returned with an underlying happiness did he pause the story to tilt his helm back and speak a greeting. "Heya Prowler, ya gonna join us?"

Jazz watched as Prowl looked over the crowd at the table before answering. "I think not tonight. I wouldn't want to intrude."

Before Jazz could reply, Sideswipe spoke up. "Why not? It's better than having to watch him make lovey faces across the room at you all night."

Prowl leveled a blank look at the red twin but Jazz caught the amusement in his tone. "I appreciate the sentiment but my choice remains the same." And then his focus was back to Jazz. "Will you be out late tonight or shall I wait up for you?"

Jazz paused to consider but Prowl's field hadn't changed as he spoke so either option was acceptable. "I dunno when we'll be done here an' I might be a bit overcharged by then but I can wake ya if it's not too late. How's that sound?"

"Acceptable."

The answer was accompanied by not only a warmth in Prowl's field but also the gentle touch of his digits to Jazz's faceplates. Slowly, Jazz had been convincing Prowl to be more public with gestures of affection while he was being taught to temper his back at the same time and so Jazz never failed to appreciate these little moments. Like now, he let his field reflect the love and affection he felt when what he really wanted to do was pull the Praxian in for a none too chaste kiss.

"I'll be going then," Prowl said after a moment and Jazz nodded once before leaning forward again to continue his tale.

Normally that would be that and Prowl would leave and things would go back to normal. Jazz never expected to feel Prowl's servo casually trail up the side of his helm, ending at one of his sensor horns. And it caused him to cut off mid-word when the sensitive appendage was suddenly being caressed by those talented digits.

By now the rest of the table had become a hazy blur, thanks only in part to the high grade he'd consumed, and Jazz leaned back into the contact unconcerned about what a spectacle they must be making. A very tiny part of his mind was curious about Prowl's motivation and why he wasn't concerned either but then even that was washed away when Prowl started massaging both.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Immediately following those words came intense pain as each sensor horn was crushed ruthlessly.

_NO!_

Jazz jolted out of the twisted memory and threw all his mental might into pushing the intruding force out of his mind. It worked, for the moment, and he desperately tried to fit a few more memories behind the barriers that protected vital Autobot intel. There just wasn't space enough though and he forced his attention back to his frame, in hopes he could get free. But the bindings holding him were just too tight and he hadn't refueled since before the battle when he'd been captured.

His visor flickered on, shattered far past usefulness during the battle but he wasn't going to be cowed so easily and Jazz aimed a glare in the direction he was fairly sure his tormentor was. "Ya ain't gonna get any a' our secrets from me so easy," he taunted.

"Autobot secrets: undesired at present."

And wasn't that just the most fragged up part about this. Soundwave hadn't even _tried_ getting past that reinforced barrier yet. No, instead he went for all the memories Jazz couldn't stand to lose. Each one was extracted, examined and then tainted, and half the time Soundwave didn't even bother to force it upon him. He just waited for Jazz's own mind to pull up the next precious memory to be destroyed. Each one lost wrenched his spark just a little bit more. The only way to protect them was to get them behind the barrier, but to do that he'd have to swap out something already there. It was the worst of lose-lose situations.

Jazz could only hope the rescue team arrived before he lost them all.

~

"This is unacceptable."

"I'm afraid our personal opinions have no bearing on the matter."

"I don't believe this! How could someone as cold as you ever gain his interest? You don't even care your partner," the word was spoken with a sneer, "is currently a Decepticon prisoner. Do you have any idea what they could be doing to him right this moment?"

Prowl's doorwings flicked once, his only concession to his current temper, before he replied. "Don't you dare accuse me of not caring about him. The very first thing I did upon returning from battle was begin plans for a rescue mission. One I had intended you to spearhead."

"Then why haven't you shared those plans? This argument could have been avoided altogether."

"Because the choice to send you is no longer mine to make." There was a faint but not unnoticeable slump in his posture if the noble was paying attention to catch it. "The Senate ruled that it was a waste of resources to send even a one mech rescue party."

"Do they know he's the best agent we have?"

"Without giving away who he is, I did inform them of such." Prowl ex-vented softly. "Apparently that only reinforced their opinion. 'If he's the best you have then let him find his own way back, if he doesn't make it back then replace him with someone better.'"

"Slaggit!" Mirage's outburst even managed to startled Prowl slightly. "Don't they realize that some tasks aren't that easy." The spy quickly resumed his pacing. "It's complicated enough to get in and out of that base when the Decepticons aren't anticipating it but to escape when you're already their captive...

"They've as good as offlined him themselves," he said, looking towards the tactician who simply nodded.

"I know."

"So what are we going to do?"

"There's nothing we can do. I can't authorize any mission where the main goal is a rescue, whether official or unofficially."

Mirage just stared for a few kliks. "You really do possess a cold spark. How can you just sit there knowing he's most probably being tortured right now? Have you any inkling what Decepticons will do for 'fun' long before they begin the real torture?"

"I know quite well what depravity they can and will stoop to," Prowl snapped before pausing to reign in his field and anger both. "I have been their prisoner before as well. A high ranking spy is nothing compared to a member of the Autobot command staff and Jazz is both." Sadness hovered at the edge of his awareness, threatening to consume him. "They're surely doing everything they can to break him."

"If you know this then why haven't you sent a team anyway?"

"Because we're at war. This is no time to be challenging orders. I have an example to set and that requires me to be a soldier first and anything else second." Gradually his tone dropped softer but more passionate as he continued. "I have to follow orders no matter how badly I, as a mech, would rather be leading a charge to raze that base and every 'Con in it to the ground."

The office fell into silence for several breems after that. Finally it was Mirage that spoke.

"That's all then?"

"On this subject, yes, however I do need these returned to Ratchet." Prowl collected and offered a small stack of datapads out to Mirage. "He's expecting them back soon but I'm too busy to visit the medbay myself."

Silently Mirage accepted them before turning and leaving the room.

Prowl ex-vented and leaned back, hoping he could get a grasp on his emotions again before they managed to actually get out of control. This wasn't the first time Jazz had ever been a Decepticon prisoner but it was the first time he'd been locked up in one of Megatron's personal bases. Mirage wasn't wrong about how difficult it was to get agents in and out of one of those but Jazz was the best so that gave him an edge. Right? Still, worry weighed heavily on his spark. He had always worried for his friend when he was captured but this level of sheer dread was new. Could the change in their relationship really have upped his concern that much? Or was there something else he hadn't considered yet that had him this troubled?

Just as he got his emotions tapered off again, Prowl's comm activated. _:That was a bit harsh, wasn't it?:_

Red Alert. No doubt having witnessed the confrontation as it played out.

 _:Perhaps, but it was necessary. With Optimus out of commission for the next metacycle yet we need to have proof we're playing by the Senate's rules. They threatened to cut funding to the army if I don't follow their orders.:_ It went without saying that a copy of that recording would be required in such a case.

_:If they did that we'd lose a third of the troops at least.:_

_:Exactly.:_ As he continued to speak, Prowl picked up a datapad from his desk and began scanning through it, looking for the cameras as if he was back to work. _:And that's not even the most damaging thing they could do to us. Can you imagine if they decided to forsake the Autobots publicly? At the very least we'd lose all public support we do have. At the worst...:_

_:At the worst they could convince the public we're at least as bad as the Decepticons and the common bots could take to arms against us, possibly even joining sides with the Decepticons!:_

_:Unfortunately so. A disturbingly high number of Autobots might even defect and do the same as well. That's why we must take all painstaking precautions to prove we're doing what they request, no matter how absurd their demands are._

_:Optimus wouldn't have us abandon Jazz either.:_ Red Alert finally said after an extended silence. _:Are you sure Mirage understood everything that occurred?:_

_:He wouldn't be Jazz's second if he couldn't see the hidden layers of conversation.:_

_:And he's a noble too.:_

_:That too...:_ Prowl agreed then paused, his line still open, before deciding to add more. _:I just hope they can succeed. I didn't have time to perfect the plan before handing it over.:_

_:Probability?:_

_:84%. And that's only if there's only one major player on base at the time.:_

_:You've agreed to missions with lower success rates before.:_

_:Only when it was literally the best option and I had the time to spend to be certain of such. This time it feels like I missed something and it worries me.:_

_:Prowl.:_

_:I'm being foolish aren't I? Letting my emotions rule me?:_

_:Maybe, but I was going to say 'he would want you to have faith.' Let the team do what they need to do and you'll have Jazz back with you before you know it.:_

_:It can't be that easy.:_

_:No, it probably isn't. But you should still try.:_

_:Red Alert?:_

_:Yes?:_

_:Thank you.:_

The comm line went silent after that and Prowl turned proper attention to the datapad he held. The only record of that conversation would be within Red Alert's private files and no known encryption method was safer. The chat might not have done much but it had at least reminded him he had one other friend worried over him.


	9. Chapter 9

Crossing the medbay, Prowl headed for the private room Ratchet had indicated upon his arrival but hesitated before opening the door. The news the medic had shared had been crushing yet hopeful, and he wasn't sure he was ready for this confrontation. There was no way he could turn away now though.

The door slid open and almost immediately the occupant's blue visor snapped up to stare at him. He made it only a few steps into the room before Jazz spoke. "Prowl."

The overwhelming sadness in his tone made Prowl want to rush to Jazz's side, curl up beside him and just let the time pass as they held one another and waited for everything to get better again, but the underlying note of fear kept the tactician frozen in place instead. Prowl spoke cautiously, even more unsure now what affect his words and mere presence might provoke. "So.... Soundwave." Jazz nodded though it wasn't a question. "Ratchet said he didn't do much physical damage but you wouldn't let him check your coding?"

"I wasn't hacked." It didn't need to be said; Jazz was skilled enough to reverse hack even Soundwave at least well enough to make the attempt pointless, but the spy felt the need to try and explain himself. Perhaps if it wasn't Prowl asking, or if he didn't feel like he'd failed so spectacularly Jazz wouldn't have been so bothered but it was and he did so his vocalizer was stuck on run. "He only got inta my head with his telepathy so there's no coding changes ta worry about. An' ya know how little Ops like anyone pokin' around in our processors. Too many secrets, too much risk and whatnot.

"I swear he didn' get anythin' classified!" Jazz added, jumping topics as his rambling hit some point in his mind. The next, and last, part was added in a much lower and harsher tone. "The fragger didn' even try and go for any Autobot secrets..."

Prowl ex-vented softly. The unspoken words hurt more than he could have predicted. He hesitated again, not really wanting to know the answer to his next question because if he didn't ask then he could keep pretending things would be fine. "What does this mean for us?"

Jazz didn't quite flinch but it was near enough. Only now did he look away, turning his gaze towards the berth he sat on. "I... don't know. I do still care about you. I've liked ya too long fer that ta be erased but the rest..."

Jazz looked up slowly, fearful what he might see but his worry was mostly calmed by the neutral mask of Prowl's features. That he knew the tactician was hiding his feelings didn't matter nearly as much as the fact that Prowl only did so around him when he didn't want to influence Jazz's feelings or opinions. In a way it was a counter manipulation, but Jazz had yet to share that with him because it worked and the saboteur rather liked knowing there was one mech he wouldn't hide the truth from.

"He got into my memories an' went fer all the most important ones. E'rything you an' me. He poked an' prodded an' tainted 'em all. Mostly. What he couldn't twist inta somethin' wretched he shredded. Sometimes both. I only got a couple I could keep safely hidden. All our time t'gether, all the effort after what happened ta us o'er there an' I only remember a few things I can trust as real. It hurts...

"I wanna trust ya, I really do. An' I know in my spark that yer good. He couldn' erase the lingering traces a' ya there, but ev'ry time I try an' reach out ta ya those ruined memories stall my vocalizer. There's nothin' I want more right now than ta pull ya onta the berth with me and just stay here until this passes but the thought terrifies me at the same time."

The silence when Jazz finished was eerily loud and it was in part to break it that Prowl voiced his next questions. "How do we fix this? What do you need me to do to best help you?"

"I don't know."

"Should I leave?"

"No!"

The exclamation startled them both, neither having expected it and Jazz certainly hadn't meant it to be that loud. "I mean... No, that might not hurt but it also pro'bly won't help an' I don' wanna maybe not see ya fer forever again."

"So there is hope for us?" It was a selfish question, and one he didn't feel he deserved an answer to, but Prowl couldn't help asking.

"I hope so. I still want ya in my life but I can understand if ya don't wanna spend yer time fixin' a broken mech again."

"You are not broken."

Carefully Prowl stepped forward once, then again, paying close attention to Jazz as he moved nearer, ready to stop or witdraw if necessary. The careful control he kept on his emotions around everyone else almost never applied with Jazz and now his features clearly betrayed the honesty of his conviction and the compassion in his words. "You have been unimaginably hurt, twice over now, but that doesn't make you broken. I've seen you come back to base bent in impossible ways, battered and bruised, stripped of plating and flayed, and even in so many pieces you shouldn't have survived but you did. And those are just the physical pains. You are the strongest bot I've ever known because you are so versatile and adaptable so I know this can only defeat you if you let it."

"Ya always have such faith in me."

"It's well deserved, I assure you."

"But why?"

"Why what?"

"Why me? I don' deserve ya, not with all ya have ta put up with ta deal with me."

"No Jazz, I don't deserve you after what I put you through."

"I still don' understand."

Prowl ex-vented and averted his optics to the floor between his pedes and the edge of the berth before meeting Jazz's gaze again. "I'm asking too much but if you'll allow me a moment of selfishness-"

"I don' believe ya even know the meanin' a' that word." Jazz meant it as a joke but the words fell flat, at least to his hearing. "But go ahead an' try."

"I know it's probably asking a lot so don't feel like you're required to reciprocate in any way..."

"Ya already peaked my interest so would ya just come out with it yet?"

Prowl nodded and ex-vented once more, slowly. As he spoke again it was hesitant, as if the tactician were trying to convince himself as well. "I wish I could be saying this at a better time than now but apparently everything about 'us' is a case of bad timing so what's one more. Right?"

Jazz nodded, a mix of agreement and desire to hear the point. Rarely did Prowl ramble this much so the spy could only guess at how much he didn't want to be mentioning whatever this was. That could be either a very good sign or a terrible one, but Jazz wouldn't know until Prowl shared the topic.

"Jazz," Prowl finally said after a short silence, then hesitated again before finishing. "I love you. I've known so for a while and probably felt that way for a long time before that. I love you enough that I would leave and stay away if you thought it for the best for you, and for your recovery. But I would wait for you forever if you think there's even the smallest chance we can get through this and make "us" work. I want to try and fix this, fix us. We were doing so once before and I'm sure we could again but the choice is entirely yours to make. You don't even have to decide now, because I know this is sudden, so just whenever you do figure it out..."

"I don't want ya gone," Jazz replied immediately. "I'll never send ya away but I don' think I'm ready ta ask ya any closer yet." Prowl nodded his acceptance of the limits even as Jazz continued along. "I need some time ta process the rest a' it though. An' I can't say what ya hope ta hear either, even if I knew I felt the same, 'cause a' the mess in my processor right now. I want ta be able to soon, but things need ta settle first."

"That's understandable." Prowl's words were toneless, but he'd stalled in saying them to purposely keep any emotion out of them. Probably for his sake, Jazz mused to himself.

"Thank you though."

"For what?"

"Making my first non-tainted memory a' us inta somethin' worth remembering. That's sure ta help speed this along. 'Least I sure hope it does."

"As do I."

Jazz flashed a smile that reflected emotions he almost actually felt. "Good. Now... Sit an' catch me up on what all I missed while I was gone."

"You know no one ever shares any gossip with me," Prowl responded as he settled into the seat near the berth. It put him a little farther away from Jazz than he'd been while standing but it wasn't worth the risk to move any closer.

"Maybe not, but yer best friends with our Security Director an' if there's anythin' happenin' on this base that he don' know about then ol' Megs'll surrender tomorrow."

Prowl couldn't help the slight chuckle that escaped him at the miniscule odds of either occurrence. "Perhaps, but just because he knows of it doesn't mean he would be bothered to inform me of every little detail."

"Except if he knows me half as well as I know 'im then he'da prepared ya fer when I was back."

"Alright, fine, you're right and he did." Normally they might have bantered longer but the mood had slipped again during the latter half of Jazz's comment and Prowl refused to risk it further.

The next couple joors were filled with Prowl relating numerous stories he had been told and the few he'd had to see the recording for himself to believe. There still was no explanation for how Sideswipe had managed to adhere himself to the ceiling in a prank supposedly involving rigging the Rec Room tables to collapse that had backfired most spectacularly and Jazz promised to wheedle the full story out of the prankster when he got the chance.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find out the Senate's response to being ignored and what comes of their new demands. Also Sideswipe has devious plans in very unusual ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So more than a month later here I am with another part finally. And naturally now I see ways I could have done last chapter better, to include more of what I wanted, but oh well. It should be seated decently enough in this chapter in any case.)

"Prowl!"

Looking up at the almost pained cry of his name, said mech found the youngest Praxian headed towards him. The black and white had decided to spend a break in the Rec Room, working on a non-essential project, and had claimed a small table in one of the back corners where he was visible but out of the way. Jazz wasn't quite avoiding him, but since being released from the medbay the saboteur had only deemed to be around him when they were in public. He couldn't fault him for it though, far from it, and simply adjusted his own plans accordingly.

Rather like now, although right now Prowl had a different situation to deal with. As soon as he'd caught the younger's optics, Bluestreak had started off into the matter on his processor. Behind him his sensor panels fluttered and bobbed in time to his words.

"And Sideswipe was talking about how Hound was saying that Mirage kept going on and on about how you wouldn't let them go save Jazz but that's not true right? It can't be true! You'd never have just left Jazz trapped by the Decepticons, right? Because you like him and you'd never leave anyone you care about behind or let them be hurt without doing everything you can to try and save them from the danger, right? So you wouldn't have just let the Decepticons do whatever they wanted without having a plan to get him out, would you? Even though he was being held in one of the most secure bases they have and being so hard to free-"

"Bluestreak," Prowl said calmly and the sniper immediately quieted. A glance showed that they'd only garnered the attention of some of the minibots at a nearby table but they all turned away when Prowl turned a mild glare on them. His focus then returned to grey mech who was all but quivering before him as he waited. "I promise I was doing everything I could."

"So Mirage was lying about you saying that he wasn't allowed to go and save Jazz?"

Prowl covered his hesitation in revealing the truth with another scan around the room. No one was looking their way this time. "I assure you, the rescue mission went entirely as I planned it."

The sniper's doorwings finally lowered as he sagged in relief. "That's good... I didn't wanna believe you would let anything like that happen because I know you really like Jazz but we never see you two together anymore and I know you both have busy lives but at least before this happened you two got to spend sometime together but now it's like you had a fight or something and the only reason that would make sense is if it was about you not sending anyone to save him."

"Nah, that ain't it at all."

Bluestreak jumped at the voice and turned around, shocked, to see where Jazz had essentially materialized out of nowhere. Prowl hadn't even noticed him approach but he wasn't nearly as surprised to see the spy. "H-hi Jazz. Where did you come from? I didn't notice you coming over."

Jazz laughed "Well I wouldn't be much good at my job if I couldn' sneak up on bots now would I?"

As the saboteur grinned at the other Praxian, Prowl spoke up. "Were you looking for something in particular, Jazz? Or just taking the opportunity to startle an unsuspecting ally?"

"Why not both?" he replied to the teasing tone with his own. "It wasn' why I came over but I wasn't about ta waste the opportunity since startlin' any a' ya three is nearly an act a' Primus."

Prowl chuckled slightly and even Bluestreak managed to look mostly amused, even though it had been at his expense. Jazz was never one to hold something like this over another bot's helm after all.

"Mind if I sit with ya?"

Prowl nodded, expecting Jazz to take up the seat across from him. Instead, the other black and white climbed onto the bench beside him and tucked himself up against the Praxian. Curiosity filled Prowl's tone. "Jazz?"

"I hope ya don't mind. There's a nasty rumor goin' 'round that I only been usin' ya an' I'll be leavin' ya soon under guise a' ya failin' me durin' my recent capture."

"You know I'd never believe that."

"Yer opinion don' matter; just what e'ryone else believes. Seein' us together might help though."

A glance up showed that Bluestreak had vanished. Prowl waited a moment more to make sure no one was paying attention to their corner before pitching his voice lower. "So what's this really about?"

"Senate made their rulin'," Jazz murmured softly. There was clear anger in his tone though. "They wanna offline 'Raj."

Prowl stiffened and anger flooded his field. His voice remained nearly silent though. "They can't!"

"They think they can an' we can't fight 'em without Optimus so there's nothin' we can do."

"We can tell the truth." Jazz started shaking his helm against Prowl's frame. "Inform them it's not actually his fault..."

"Tha's even worse," Jazz said, stating the truth they both knew. "We can't lose you, an' even if they don' want yer life there's plenty a' other problems they'll cause."

Prowl had no argument. There was no argument to be had. "Can we trick them?"

Jazz shook his helm again. "They don' trust ya an' he came ta save me so they think, rightly so, that I won't offline 'im. They're requirin' it ta happen in front a' 'em."

"That can't happen."

"I know, tha's why I gotta plot."

Prowl nodded casually and held Jazz tighter. Anything to seem normal and keep attention off of them. Insofar as he could when seeing them in such a pose was rare itself. "Let me know if you want me to run any test scenarios."

"Naturally," Jazz replied. He was just beginning to say something more when the alarms sounded. Every bot was on their pedes instantly and Red Alert's voice sounded throughout the base.

**[Iacon has been attacked. This is not a drill. I repeat, Iacon has been attacked. Prepare for battle.]**

Both Prowl and Jazz were already moving towards the door, the former issuing commands and reprimanding anyone moving too slowly. Meanwhile, Jazz hailed Red Alert on the officer frequency for details.

_:Where'd the 'Cons hit?:_

_:The Senate Chamber:_ came the answer almost immediately. It was a startling answer, but the next comment was even more so. _:But I don't know if it even was the Decepticons.:_

 _:Explain:_ Prowl ordered as the duo made their way to the security hub, from where they would help direct battle.

_:We have no visual feed. Just reports of an explosion.:_

_:Have you tried accessing the feeds from before the blast?:_

_:There are none. The Senators demanded all Autobot surveillance devices deactivated and removed from all areas of the Senate building.:_

Jazz swore as they reached the security center and headed inside. The door had barely opened before they heard Red Alert ranting, mostly to himself.

"And I told them they shouldn't have had the security cameras deactivated. I knew something like this could happen and then we'd have to be going in blind because we don't know the situation without them!"

"Now's not the time for that," Prowl addressed the Security Director. With Optimus temporarily out of commission and the Senators potentially -hopefully- all offlined, he was unquestionably the highest authority. "There's got to be security feeds somewhere showing who approached the target. Get into whatever you need in order to get me information on the situation."

Turning back to Jazz, who had taken the spot at an open monitor to relay orders, he voiced the fear that had been in his processor since Red Alert's first answer. "I'm not about to send our troops in to kill one of their own, am I?"

Jazz looked up and held his gaze for a moment as he considered the question. "I didn' give the orders an' never even heard rumor a' any plans fer somethin' like this but there's always the possibility it's an agent gone rogue. We don' take well ta threats against our own in Ops."

Prowl sensed the unspoken 'an' I don't fault 'em for it if that's the case' but said nothing and turned away with the hint of a nod. "Alright troops. I want a couple of our best scouts sent in to gather intel. We don't initiate, that means **no one moves** , until we know what we're dealing with."

The orders were sent out to the field commanders and then they settled in to wait.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (To anyone interested in trying to guess the mastermind behind the Senators' deaths I wish you luck. This is most likely the last time that topic will be touched upon. I promise no one has lied about their knowledge of the incident and it isn't some obscure nobody. I only ask for your reasons with your guess because anyone can pick a name at random.)

In the end it was a complete loss.

There were no survivors. That the building remained standing at all was a testament to the architects of it's time.

To the best anyone could determine, a single mech had entered the Senate chambers and detonated a massive incendiary device. Possibly himself as there was no bodies but those of the Senators, and many of those were even in pieces. The entire chamber was devastated nearly to the core.

Autobot High Command had gone into deliberation but there was really nothing to discuss. Perhaps there was a chance it hadn't been a Decepticon but the public wouldn't stand for not knowing. Although saying it had been a Decepticon attack would scare the citizens to no end. In the end they decided to formally claim to be looking into the situation and informally leak rumors about an attack.

The Decepticon response was swift once they got word. They attacked several Autobot bases in an uproar, and Megatron even came forward with the claim that, as much as he would enjoy taking the credit, he and his were not to blame for the attack on the Senate. Predictably, no Autobots and few civilians were inclined to believe this and the fighting only intensified further.

It was a few decaorn later when the news reached the Autobot command that Megatron was planning to try an attack on Iacon itself, under the banner that 'they claim we've hit their core already so let's do so for real.' Naturally this threw the entire contingent of Iaconian based Autobots into a flurry of activity. The force Megatron was assumed to be bringing wasn't the worse news, it was that he was personally leading this charge.

The only Autobot strong enough to handle a one-on-one fight with Megatron was currently in temporary stasis.

~

"You can't be serious!"

"We need 'im, Ratch," Jazz responded. He was leaned against a wall almost casually but there was no mistaking the tension in his frame. All the officers felt much the same though some showed it worse than others. "OP's the only one who can handle Megs in a straight-up fight an' we don' stand a chance a' survivin' this attack if he ain't back online."

"You're suggesting Megatron could take down an entire geshalt in combined form."

Jazz shrugged. "Ain't that hard. An' if he brings teams a' his own, which Prowl's pretty sure he will, ours'll be too busy dealin' with them ta fight him."

"So you think I should just pull Optimus out of stasis before he's completely healed just so he can land back in my Medbay with even worse injuries!"

"It's the best plan we got," Jazz conceded. "An' it'll help another problem too."

"And just what, praytell, is that?"

Instead of answering, Jazz looked past Ratchet towards the center of the room. The Command Center had become the core hub of activity as reports of the Decepticons' actions and reaction to the Senators' deaths had started pouring in. "Prowl!" he called and the Praxian turned their way. "Ratchet's askin' if havin' Optimus online will help."

"Probably." And then Prowl turned away again to return to another five tasks.

"'Probably'?" Ratchet repeated, questioning, and the anger rolling off of him was only slightly tempered by curiosity. "When did he stop using exact percentages?"

"Dunno exactly, but I do know he's been running in tactical mode since shortly after the first reports came in."

"Fragging Pit-spawn glitch! Doesn't the idiot know what sort of damage that'll do to his system putting that level of strain on it?!"

"He said he did but that it was necessary. He's tryin' ta plan for literally every possible situation an' outcome all at once, an' unfortunately we need it. He can do it, he's the only one who has any chance, but there's not enough time so he's pushin' harder than he should."

Somewhere mixed in with an extremely colorful slew of swearing was an accusation of approximately; "and you're just letting him do this!"

"He won't listen even to me in this state unless I have something 'relevant' to say or ask. I've just barely been able ta make sure he refuels between e'rythin' else I'm tryin' ta stay on top a' an' all the new Intel reports comin' in. An' that's only b'cause I grab an extra cube when I do get a chance ta refuel myself **_and_** because his programming accepts the lack 'a fuel as detrimental to it-his functioning." Jazz's posture slacked under the weight of the revelation. "I'm pretty sure he hasn't recharged this decaorn either. Not fer several orns fer sure."

Ratchet hit a new level of creative with his expletives, causing several of the nearby bots to give their little area an even wider berth as they rushed past.

"An' that's why we need OP too. He's the only one who can pull rank over the tactical programming and require Prowl ta shut it down." Jazz couldn't keep the sadness from his field as he continued. "It won' even accept a medical command even though this is killing him...

"And while we might be able ta handle Megsy without OP, we stand no chance without Prowl's planning. Even if we have Optimus in perfect condition."

The medic never ceased in his litany of curses as he left the Command Center, included in the midst, however, was his acceptance, and he was still ranting when he reached his Medbay.

~

"Autobots, report."

Although he'd been briefed on what to expect, it still took Optimus by surprise when he entered the Command Center. 'Organized chaos' was perhaps the best thing to call it, because even though he couldn't see how the situation had any layout the Prime knew better than to think his second wouldn't have maximized it all for efficiency.

And speaking of, said mech was making his way through the mass of bodies to offer a proper salute. It was only after Optimus nodded that Prowl began.

"The Senate was destroyed, no survivors." The tactician spoke in a short, clipped tone and what few movements he made were incredibly stiff. "Megatron then decided to make his move against Iacon. We are bolstering defenses in preparation while scouting teams attempt to gather more information."

Optimus nodded along as Prowl spoke, a frown growing more and more under the battle mask as he observed his second. The mech's paint was chipped and his optics dull, and his sensor panels drooped so low that it had to hurt unless he'd turned off all sensation from them. Optimus had been warned, by Ratchet and Jazz both, that Prowl wasn't in his usual mind but the Autobot leader had never expected to find he'd been trying to literally work himself offline.

The Prime couldn't help the sigh as he held up arm in a silence gesture which Prowl responded to slowly, cutting off in mid-word as he belatedly noticed and understood. "That's all I need to hear." The Praxian seemed about to argue but Optimus stopped him before he could begin. "For now. They are still half a metacycle out, yes?" A slow nod. "Then the rest of your report can wait."

Prowl's horror-stricken expression came almost several kliks later than it should have and that only reinforced his will to make the next statement. "I am taking over and you are going to rest. I need everyone in top condition for this battle and I have it on good authority that you have not taken care of yourself properly."

"That's absurd. I've taken care of myself just fine."

"When was your last break?"

"There's no time for breaks."

"There is now," Optimus answered in a finalized way, "and you're the first bot who needs one."

"Yes sir." The response was dull and too weary to actually be called forced as the tactician turned to leave.

"Take Jazz with you. He's had almost as little rest and I can trust him to report if you try and work."

"But-"

"Prowl," the Autobot leader rumbled. "I am asking for now but I can make it an order."

"Yes sir."

"There anythin' else ya wanna mention b'fore we go boss?" Jazz had perked up when his name was spoken and made his way across the room to join the duo in their currently semi-secluded corner of the room.

Optimus studied his third in command's expectant expression for a moment before he remembered. "Make sure he shuts down that tactical programming too."

Jazz offered a lazy salute even as Prowl stiffened. "Will do boss. How long 'ave we got?"

"The rest of this orn and all of the next." Jazz nodded. "I wish I could offer you longer but time is limited."

"Not a problem. We'll make due. Be seein' ya later."

Optimus nodded once before striding off into the thick of the chaos. But not before noticing Jazz flinch when Prowl walked up behind him. It was nothing he could deal with now though so he had to hope whatever problems existed between the pair would hold until this impending confrontation was dealt with.

~

Jazz didn't quite have to drag Prowl to his own quarters but it was close. A lack of energy and desire both made the trip even longer than normal but finally they reached the appropriate door and Jazz stood aside to let Prowl enter his own code. The tactician strode in and made to shut the door but Jazz slipped in first, engaging the lock as he did.

"That was unnecessary, I know you don't want to do this." Prowl's tone was still even despite the fact he was running on almost no energy.

"What makes ya say that?" Jazz asked with a puzzled expression.

"Because you don't actually like me."

"That's not true."

"It is though. Your pumps work faster when we share a space, you won't even touch me and you outright flinched when I got close to you earlier. Either you're afraid or plotting something and both inevitably lead to the conclusion you hate me."

"I don't hate you." Jazz's tone was icy and he caught the other's gaze and held it as he stalked closer. "You may aggravate me to no end and sometimes still even trigger those memories but I have never hated you. Even when yer like this." He made a vague sweeping gesture and Prowl bristled.

"What do you mean by that?"

"When ya turn on that tactical programming an' let it take over. Yer barely even you at all then."

"You're being ridiculous. I am still myself."

"Not really, yer not." The Praxian scoffed but Jazz didn't leave him a chance to speak. "Yer all business an' won't talk ta anyone, Pit, ya won't even acknowledge anyone unless it's about work! And ya over work yerself even worse. This is yer first time outside the Command room almost since we got word a' this attack and I know ya haven't been takin' any breaks. Yer gonna literally work yerself offline one a' these orns. D'ya even know where the Energon ya've been takin' came from?" Jazz answered his own question without pausing, "I doubt it.

"An' when ya do talk with anyone ya barely sound like yerself; only speakin' in facts an' orders with yer tone even more blank than normal. Ya don't even have any field ta speak of! An' you wonder why ya've always been called a drone!"

Prowl hadn't moved and Jazz had to hope he was still paying attention, could even focus enough to pay attention, because he wasn't quite done. "But I knew all'a that when we became us, so I don't regret it. This is just another part a' who ya are so I'll stand by ya in this state b'cause I care about ya. An' I am not about ta lose ya because we fought like this."

Finally finished, Jazz stood in silence as he waited for Prowl to reply. Time enough passed that Jazz was starting to seriously worry when the response finally came.

"Do you know why you infuriate me?" Jazz didn't have an answer in the couple kliks he had before Prowl continued on. "Did you even know you could?" Jazz frowned but stayed silent. "Emotions do not matter in the world of facts and data and nothing anyone has ever said or done outside of combat has any bearing on their abilities and usefulness on the battlefield. Except you.

"No matter what I want or how many corrective programs I run, you always have a greater importance than the sum of your skills. I have had to modify countless equations and tables to account for this glitch, to the point where I'm not even certain I can recall the originals, and still your existence manages to hold the highest value. That is unacceptable, and yet I can't change it.

"You have somehow managed to undermine any value my tactical assessments have to the point I can't be sure they're even remotely accurate anymore. The only reason I haven't requested a decommission is because my plans, as flawed as they may be, are still the only thing keeping our side from losing and there are no suitable replacements with even half my processing power left."

There was a breem of silence and then Jazz spoke. "So what's yer solution for this 'problem' then?"

"Typically the best solution is to remove the source of the problem but I have tried and unfortunately that failed." Prowl vented a soft sigh. "Annoyingly, engaging you has seen the smallest increases in your importance, so while good sense says to send you away the data speaks the opposite truth."

"So we're settled then?"

"You could call it that."

"Good, 'cause you need ta rest. An' don't forget Prime told ya ta shut down the tactical code."

Prowl regarded Jazz with a calculating look before offlining his optics. A klik later they onlined again and immediately after the tactician nearly collapsed as the exhaustion hit him. He would have hit the floor if not for Jazz quickly darting forward to catch him.

"I shoulda pro'bly waited 'til ya were by yer berth b'fore makin' ya do that, huh?"

"Jazz?" Prowl stuttered out when he could focus again. His processor was incredibly sluggish and it took much longer than it should have to remember anything. "How long?"

"Since ya last recharged or since ya turned on tactical?" There was no answer so Jazz gave the easiest one. "Way too long."

Prowl murmured something that might have been agreement and Jazz carefully starting trying to maneuver him towards the other room. "C'mon now. Just a little more an' ya can recharge as long as ya need."

It took longer than it should have but not nearly as long as it could have been before they were both situated on the berth. Jazz was just about to drift off himself when he heard Prowl speak up softly. "I am so sorry... I didn't mean to say any of those things."

"Yeah ya did," the saboteur replied. "But it's my own fault fer pickin' a fight with ya in the mode. I really don' mind though. There were things that needed ta be settled an' I was actually expectin' it ta go a whole lot worse."

"I'm still sorry."

"There's nothin' ta forgive but if I say I forgive ya will ya finally offline an' rest?"

The answer was a sleepy 'yes' and Jazz did as he said. It earned him a half-formed smile and the Praxian snuggling closer. Jazz hugged him, holding him close, and only waited until Prowl had gone offline before dropping into recharge himself.


	12. Chapter 12

The battle went as they typically do. Megatron had brought far more troops than they hoped but less than they had planned for and after several gruelingly long orns the Decepticons had been turned back before they managed to do more than breech the outskirts of Iacon. It was by some miracle that no Autobots had been offlined (no one had taken count yet if there were any Decepticon frames left behind and greyed, nor how any of the Neutrals who chose to remain in the area had fared) but there was no one without some form of injury. The consolation was that the Decepticons were in no better state and they had to travel half the planet again to get back to their 'safe' territory.

It was, without a doubt, Optimus Prime's presence upon the battlefield that had buoyed the Autobots to such a victory, if either side can ever claim such a thing in war. Somehow they had kept his awakening a secret from all but the highest of officers to prevent the Decepticons from learning about it and perhaps changing tactics. As such, when Megatron arrived with his army expecting, perhaps, to crush the Autobots in their own home, he was instead met by his greatest match and after a long hard fight he was turned away.

In the aftermath of the battle there was a great amount of destruction and damage which led to the discussion of how to handle it. Then onto a debate (it was too calm yet to be called a fight) between Autobot command staff and the quickly raised (and often self-nominated) new neutral leaders on rebuilding versus relocation and about repairing which supply routes and when. It was a political mess the likes of which the Autobots hadn't dealt with while the Senate ruled. Weary and exhausted, many combat leaders now found themselves opposing the very bots they had just fought to protect. It was draining in an entirely different way.

However, none of that mattered at the moment for the army's Second in Command. His processor was focused on far more important thoughts as he made his way to the Medbay. Only breems ago he had found a waiting message from Ratchet upon turning back on his comms after a meeting with a particularly difficult (and very likely underhanded) 'official'. The contents of that message superseded any other meeting and he'd happily rescheduled the rest for later and taken off towards the medical wing.

Ratchet looked his way as he entered but only grumbled out, "you'd better be keeping off that leg," before turning back to the mech he was working on. It forced Prowl to keep to a sedate pace as he crossed to the habitation suites. Nearly all were currently occupied; used for the worst of injuries and the most delicate, as well as housing the more stubborn patients so they didn't sneak away before a medic could clear them for duty. Jazz was a frequent visitor to them, although so were Ratchet and Optimus and even Prowl himself usually ended up in one when he got injured in combat. The doors were all unmarked but Ratchet had sent him the appropriate room number in his message.

The door slid away at his request to reveal the contents of the room, but his attention was only on the medi-berth's occupant. There was Jazz, missing an arm but otherwise in good condition. Now. Prowl remained locked in place as he fought down unnecessary emotional responses and had nearly succeeded when the saboteur's gaze moved to him.

"There ya are," Jazz said with a bright smile that morphed into a grin. "Been wonderin' what was takin' ya so long."

Prowl may have responded with something about 'impossible delegations' but his focus was solely on crossing the room. Worry melted to relief in his field and Jazz's smile managed to get brighter as he reached out with his remaining arm to guide the tactician to sit on the edge of the berth. "Careful now lover, shouldn' you be restin' too? I hear ya got yerself shot."

Concern threaded its way into the spy's field as he gently touched the welded plate on Prowl's thigh, leading to the calm response that held a fair share of fear in return. "I'll be fine. It didn't hurt nearly as much as nearly losing you for real."

"And that would be my cue to leave."

Sensor panels shooting up in alarm, Prowl turned sideways in time to see Mirage fade out of the visible spectrum. When the door shut again, Prowl looked back to Jazz. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Not at all," Jazz offered in reassurance. "'e's been jus' waitin' fer the chance ta go visit Hound."

"They're still keeping their relationship a secret?"

"Yup." Jazz's reply was colored with amusement at Prowl's surprise. "They say the choice's mutual, an' I believe 'em. Somethin' 'bout neither havin' enough rank ta force a rescue if the 'Cons decide ta use one er the other as leverage."

"Sound reasoning."

"Yup. Not that it'd stop me though. They're some'a my best agents an' my best team."

"Not to mention your friends," Prowl remarked with a soft smile which Jazz returned. "But for what it's worth I wouldn't leave either one to the Decepticons either if it can be helped."

"Ya still feel indebted ta 'Raj?"

"In part, yes."

"Ya know he doesn' fault ya fer it. 'E knew the risks a' acceptin' that mission an' willingly took sole responsibility ta protect the rest a' the team."

"That doesn't negate the guilt."

"He'da come fer me anyway." Jazz shrugged. "Yer plan just gave 'em the best chance."

When Prowl was silent, Jazz ex-vented a sigh and reached out to take one of his servos, which he tugged gently. "C'mon, lay with me fer a bit?"

The tactician agreed without fuss and after a bit of shuffling they were rearranged so the saboteur could cuddle against his front bumper. One of Prowl's servos went habitually to stroking Jazz's helm, a comforting gesture for the Polyhexian, while his other arm held the other mech close. Gradually their fields synced to a sedate calm and only then did Prowl speak.

"I was terrified you know."

"Hm?" Jazz tilted his helm up to meet Prowl's optics.

"The battle..." A soft ex-vent escaped him. "Whatever insanity possessed you to take on Bruticus by yourself?"

"We needed 'Aid as a medic an' our other teams were busy so I had ta distract 'im since I was close enough."

"It was still a reckless and stupid thing to do and nearly got you killed." Though it was a scolding the Praxian felt more of sadness and fear than anger. "Watching that hurt so badly..."

"B'lieve me, I know..." Jazz paused, considering, then added more. "When 'e knocked me on the ground it shorted a lotta my systems an' I couldn't move. Fer a few kliks I was sure I was a goner..." Prowl tightened his hold, fear by far the most prominent emotion about him, but Jazz still had enough room to maneuver his arm up to touch Prowl's face plates. "Relivin' yer life when yer about ta offline is a myth, but I did realize something important. Important enough ta force my frame ta work again.

"There's somethin' I haven' been able ta say ta ya even though ya deserve ta hear it. Ta know it's true." Jazz's field was a warmth that slowly permeated the fear as he spoke. "I couldn' let myself offline without tellin' ya."

"Jazz, wha-" He was silenced by a touch.

"Not now. I wan' it ta be a bit more special than here." Jazz's tone was imploring -pleading- and Prowl nodded as best he could. "Can I visit ya when I'm free'a here?"

"Of course. I always welcome your presence."

"Good."

After that they went quiet and settled in to bask in one another's company for as long as Ratchet would allow.

~

A considerable time later found Prowl being ushered out of the Medbay because Ratchet had finally cornered the Prime for a follow up on his repairs. As the medic began to work, both mechs paused to watch the Praxian leave, far more relaxed than when he'd arrived. It wasn't until the door had shut behind him that the Autobot leader spoke, inquiring of the other.

"They are an interesting pair, aren't they?"

The medic just 'hmph'-ed and kept at his work.

"You don't think so?"

Ratchet stopped just long enough to study Optimus' expression. "Something bad happened between them. I don't know what, I'm not privy to that story, but I've seen enough victims to know the signs and it's tainted their interactions. This relationship is either the best thing they could do, or the worst. More likely the latter in the end, and we're helpless to prevent that disaster when it happens."

"Do you really think we should keep them apart?"

"Honestly, Optimus, I have no idea. I would suggest keeping watch on them but knowing either of them there's not gonna be any warning before their meltdown."

"If they have one."

"It's more likely than not."

"But not completely guaranteed." Medic and Prime locked gazes again until Ratchet finally looked away with a huff. Optimus continued in his careful way. "And they do have a way of always surprising us... So we offer help if needed, then pay attention and only interfere if necessary?"

"I don't like it," Ratchet grumbled as he reached for one of his tools. "But it's the best option we have, isn't it?"

Optimus hummed an affirmative and with an annoyed ex-vent, Ratchet went back to work.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle recap and some setup for the next scene. That's one I'm sure people will like. *smirks*

_The battle was going fine. Not well by any means and certainly not smoothly, but they'd for once had the advantage with Megatron not expecting Optimus in the fight and the Autobots were pressing that advantage with everything they had. There had been no casualties yet and none of the critical fighters had been taken out of the fight so the situation was still tactically sound._

_He would never know what caused him to look up. What drew his attention so completely from the battle plans and made him pause in directing troops (many of which should have known those necessary positions and orders anyway) but something did. Something he could never put words to made him look up as a lone fighter attacked a combined gestalt team. It was insane, suicidal and certainly not an appropriate tactic, but somehow it was working._

_Some would call it an act of Primus but he knew better, knew it was only due to the skill of the Autobot fighter. Yet, even as he watched, transfixed, it was going to be a losing battle. Yes, that strike there wasn't strong enough -couldn't be strong enough- and he should have dodged left, not right. Several plans began only to be discarded as unworkable for a recovery effort but it was when the combiner hit back that the shock nearly shut down the battle computer entirely._

_With a simple, slow and deliberate movement, Bruticus managed to swat it's attacker to the ground. And Prowl could only watch from across the battlefield as the events he'd seen in his processor suddenly played out for real. Without the filter blocking his emotions. There was nothing that could be done, nothing he could possibly do, and his spark constricted so tightly it ** _hurt_**. _

_He never noticed the attacker that came his way, nor even felt the blade that dug into his leg. That pain was nothing compared to the realization that he was going to lose Jazz._

~

Prowl waited until the second time Optimus asked him about needing a break before accepting. It would seem strange if he agreed too quickly and his target had been on shift the first time. A slight stagger to his gait resulted in being told to take the night off, something he didn't expect to need but intended to utilize as best he could. He wouldn't be able to recharge well anyway, even if he tried.

It wasn't too hard to find the location he needed; there were a limited number of suitable spots and he'd found something in nearly all of them at least once in the past. Luckily the mech he wanted was there, although the probability had been high that he would be. Sideswipe did like to pass around his highgrade even more after a successful battle, and that meant a necessary increase to his stock.

That he wasn't alone wasn't too surprising either, given Sunstreaker didn't often deal with anyone but his brother. That Prowl could sneak up on the pair of them however, that was on the lower end of likelihood. They did seem to be busy, but even then few frontliners ever let their guard down that much.

"Brewing again, Sideswipe?" Prowl questioned, causing said mech to jump and his twin to merely twitch. "Don't you know that's against regulations?"

"Aww, frag Prowl. You're not supposed ta do inspections so soon after a battle," the red twin complained as he turned to plead with the second in command. "Especially not this one..."

Before Prowl could answer, Sunstreaker spoke up. "That can't be what this is. There's too many injured so throwing us in the brig would be inefficient."

"He's got a point," Sideswipe latched onto the hope mercilessly. "Don't think we don't see how exhausted you are too. I bet you're supposed to be off resting so what's got you gracing us with your presence?"

Now Prowl hesitated. "I-I was hoping to procure a couple cubes from you. Some of whichever is Jazz's favorite, to celebrate his release from Medbay."

"Is that so?" Sideswipe responded with one of his cockiest smiles and a tone that Prowl was almost willing to call evil. "And just are you offering in trade?"

There was just the slightest twitch of his sensor panels before Prowl answered. "Understand there's nothing I can offer in any official capacity, but as an informed individual I can warn you that in approximately a metacycle there will be an inspection in this section of the base. An intelligent mech would have his base of operations relocated before then."

"Good to know," Sideswipe responded, scarily conversational before his tone went strangely innocent. "Is that all ya got?"

More than just his sensor wings twitched this time. "What more are you looking for?"

"I've already got an inside tip on the inspection schedule so you only confirmed it for me and that's barely worth one cube of my third best highgrade, much less two of the best. Yer gonna hafta get a bit more creat- Ow!"

"Here." Sunstreaker held out two bright cubes that were a vibrant teal, much to the chagrin of his twin who was glaring and still rubbing the back of his helm where he'd been hit. "Take them and go before my half-wit of a brother manages to talk himself into that brig time."

"I-Thank you, Sunstreaker."

"No need to thank me. My brother really does require a handler." A quick glare back stopped Sideswipe before he could say anything and the red twin shut his mouth again. "And he didn't actually know about that inspection, but the glitch hasn't learned yet not to mess with his commanders."

Prowl nodded, for lack of anything to say, as he subspaced the cubes. He would have to detour back to his room anyway to store them but this had taken far less time than he'd expected so perhaps he would try to rest. Not that he anticipated much success alone in the berth.

Something of his thoughts must have leaked in his features because Sunstreaker looked less generally annoyed and more concerned when he looked to him once more. "Thank you again. I know it's not said often but you are a good mech, both of you, and I'm proud to have you both under my command. Even with your faults and the trouble you each cause."

Neither twin could seem to look at him after that so Prowl took his leave. Before the storage closet door shut behind him, he heard their voices as a conversation started up.

"What'd you just give him those for? We coulda gotten so much outta him if you'd let me try."

"You're such an idiot sometimes. Couldn't you tell he was still hurting?"

"I thought Ratchet already fixed his leg, or did he get hit other places before you got to him?"

"It's not physical wounds I'm talking about..." There was silence and then Sunstreaker continued. "He was only injured because he was watching the wrong fight. Imagine if you had to watch me die knowing you couldn't do anything to help."

Sideswipe was slow to comment, as if confused. "But they're not bonded, like we are."

"They don't have to be. I know that spark broken expression and he was in pain even before that ‘Con struck."

The door shut before Sideswipe's response and Prowl found himself conflicted. It was nice that someone understood but had he really become so easy to read? Perhaps the battle really had affected him more than he could have guessed, but at least he wasn't the only one.

~

It was several joors after finishing with Optimus before Ratchet could get back to Jazz. The wait was excruciating, just like always, and the saboteur certainly tried to nag the medic about that but was cut short by the threat of being kept longer. Technically a missing limb didn't necessitate a stay in the Medbay, but Ratchet did like to be overly cautious when he could.

The reattachment surgery was simple enough and Ratchet completed that in a matter of breems. It was the testing and physical therapy that took several more joors as Jazz had to run through every possible motion he could make to be sure every connection was functional and all wires had been attached correctly. It was a dull and slightly repetitive task but Ratchet absolutely refused to let him leave before they could check it all.

Finally, finally though, they were done and he'd been released. Of course now that he was free there was the question of where to go and what to do. Usually he'd hit up the Rec room and get caught up on whatever he might have missed but it was still well into second shift and after a battle like that most mechs would still be sticking to their rooms to catch up on resting. Plus, right now he just plain didn't wanna be bothered to deal with anyone except one particular mech anyway. Unfortunately said mech was sure to be stuck in a never ending mess of work that Jazz would never understand how didn't just consume him whole.

The thought had the saboteur frowning to himself. Even injured, Prowl wasn't one to slack on his workload but surely he could tempt him to quit earlier for the night, right? Everyone needed to recover after that battle and the tactician was no exception. Pit, he wouldn't mind getting a bit overcharged himself after everything.

Well, now that was an idea. Prowl hadn't shown himself to be much of a highgrade drinker but most of what went around the base were brews various enlisted concocted and few were all that good. Plus it was, technically, contraband and Prowl held to the rules too much to consume anything even remotely illegal. Several mechs had private stores of perfectly legal highgrade from before the war escalated to the point it became nigh impossible to find, including Jazz himself. Surely he could convince the other to at least share a cube, in a toast to survival.

Plan decided and goal set, Jazz strode off towards his quarters to collect the highgrade before he visited Prowl, deciding as he went just which brew would be best for the night.

~

_He knew something had gone wrong even as the strike hit. That should have been a weak point but apparently not. That momentary hesitation was all that was needed to throw him off balance and he stumbled into a dodge as Bruticus moved._

_The next thing Jazz knew was pain as something collided with his side and sent a brilliant flare of white static through his vision._

_When he could focus again, he found himself laying on the ground, looking upwards at the combined mech he’d just been trying to fight. It took a moment for him to process the situation before he tried to move… but nothing. His body wasn’t responding to any of his commands. Well frag…_

_No, he thought as he watched the geshalt start to lift a leg and it hit him that the thing was going to step on him. Now he really was fragged…_

_Unnoticed, a resigned sigh escaped his vocalizer. This wasn’t how he was supposed to meet his end, fraggitall! There was so much he hadn’t done yet, so many places he hadn’t been and things he hadn’t tried. Not to mention all the ‘bots who’d have to mourn him. Pit! Prowl alone would be devastated to lose him._

_Thoughts of the other black and white sent his spark into a painful twist. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t even gotten to tell him that he loved him yet._

_That simple thought stole all his attention as soon as it registered. It wasn’t that he hadn’t known how much he cared but to acknowledge the thought so blatantly finally put things into the proper perspective. He loved Prowl with everything that he was and it hurt more than he could ever put into words not to be able to tell the mech so._

_Somehow, impossibly, an alert popped up in his visual and he latched onto the hope it offered. It certainly wasn’t much, was barely even enough to matter, but it would have to work. A hasty, temporary, internal rerouting program coursed through his systems as the pede above him reached it’s highest point and began to come down._

_The reroute managed to complete with just enough time to allow him to roll sideways and out of the way of imminent destruction. Unfortunately, he hadn’t accounted for the additional kibble on the geshalt’s pede and, while it didn’t hold the full force of impact, the collision was solid enough to shatter several important components in his arm where they made contact. It would have hurt like the pit if he hadn’t lost access to pain reports as one of the few functional systems when he’d hit the ground._

_He was just debating his next move when he heard the telltale sounds of a transformation and glanced past Bruticus to see Defensor blossom into being. He might have sent a most sparkfelt message of gratitude if his comm lines had been working but they too had been temporarily reallocated._

_And speaking of, he really ought to find a medic before that borrowed time ran out. The two combined teams met in a resounding clash, each trying to bring the other down, as Jazz slipped away before his systems could fail for real._


	14. Chapter 14

Prowl onlined without realizing he'd initiated recharge to darkness and weight as a frame pressed against his own. Concern flared before he recognized the field seamlessly merged with his own and he rejected the request for his battle protocols before they could run. He only got a klik to bask in the sheer peace, though, before his berthmate moved and the darkness was mitigated by the softer than normal glow of the other mech's visor.

"Mornin'."

"Was I really offline that long?" the tactician asked with a touch of genuine concern.

"Dunno," came the casual response that somehow managed to convey a verbal shrug. "Only been here 'bout a joor myself but I didn' wanna bother ya since ya never rest enough."

A soft hum was the confirmation given that he'd heard before Prowl moved to a different topic. "Have you refueled yet?"

"Yep. Grabbed a cube durin' shift change. I'da been here sooner but yer not easy ta find when yet not workin'. I looked all the normal places an' was startin' ta worry some 'Cons had gotten in an' ya'd been captured by the time I checked the command post again." Jazz chuckled slightly. "Good thin' OP asked what I was up ta 'cause he was the one told me he'd sent ya off ya rest."

"A good thing indeed." Prowl shifted to sit up and Jazz moved accordingly to give him proper space. A quick ping to the base AI turned on the lights at a minimum and only because it was so sudden did he see the other's frown as he spoke.

"Yer not headin' back ta work already, are ya?"

"It may have crossed my mind," Prowl admitted, "but it certainly isn't my preferred course of action. So long as present company is inclined to remain?"

"Any time." Taking the question as an invitation, the saboteur moved closer and snuggled up against the other. "Yer lucky ya picked that option. OP all but ordered me ta make sure ya don't try returnin' ta work until yer rested.

"Don' even start," he continued, cutting off the start of whatever protest the Praxian was about to make. "Ya've run that command post fer an orn an' a half by yerself an' ya need to rest now. The boss don' wanna see ya until first shift at the very earliest. An' that's only if I fail ta keep ya occupied longer."

"So you're stuck with me for at least the next... 9 joor?" Prowl teased, with a quick check of his chronometer.

"Ya make it sound like I wasn' plan in' ta spend the time with ya anyway."

"You were?"

"A'course. We all need ta celebrate survivin' after a fight like that."

There was silence for a klik and Jazz was starting to worry he'd said something wrong when Prowl finally did speak, the words coming as increasingly shocking.

"You're absolutely correct, and that's why..." Now Prowl shifted so he could withdraw something from his subspace and hesitantly offer it out to Jazz. "I procured these for us."

Staring at the glowing cubes of what was very obviously neither standard nor legitimate Energon, Jazz's tone was a mix of surprise, awe and amusement. "Is that one a' Side's brews?"

"I-yes, it is."

"I can't believe ya'd take from the confiscated stash so how'd ya get it? What'd ya have ta trade 'im? Nothin' too vital or dangerous I hope?"

"Nothing he didn't apparently potentially know already, although Sunstreaker was greatly beneficial in that regard."

"Huh." And thankfully that was all Jazz said to that as he claimed one of the two cubes. "Ya try any yet? It don' quite stand against some a' the pre-war mixes but this is definitely one 'a Side's best."

"So I've heard... I didn't try it though, I was waiting to share with you."

Jazz hummed an affirmative. "Ya should know then that this one is potent, just so yer ready." 

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Well, cheers."

And with that, Jazz tapped their cubes together before swallowing roughly a third of his, resulting in a chuckle from Prowl. "Weren't you just cautioning me as to how strong it was?"

“Maybe,” the saboteur replied in a teasing tone. “But I also drink the stuff more often.”

“Are you suggesting I can't handle a little highgrade?” Prowl responded in kind.

“Nah, ya probably hafta in order ta not go crazy with this crew.” Jazz gave a bright smile as he leaned back against the wall beside Prowl. “But I know fer a fact ya don’t have this stuff ever.”

Conceding that point silently, Prowl took a sip from his own cube. It was stronger even than he’d anticipated but the buzz of excess energy wasn’t unpleasant. And then to Jazz’s silent questioning, he answered, “it could certainly be much worse.”

“So ya like it,” Jazz corrected, and when Prowl didn’t argue added, “Sides’ll love ta hear that.”

“Tell him that and you’re dead. I do plan your missions.”

“Aww…” Jazz pouted. “Ya wouldn’ do that. Ya love me too much.”

“Yes. And some days I wonder when I went crazy enough to do that.”

Further pouting from the spy earned him an exasperated sigh and then a gentle kiss.

"I'd still love ya even if ya were crazy, ya better know that, Prowler."

"I do," came the response, immediate and confident.

They lapsed into a short silence again, enjoying the highgrade and company. The night's peace was a distinct contrast to the recent pre-battle excitement and even more recent post-battle recovery efforts. And calm like this was ever more infrequent as the war wore on.

It was Jazz who broke the silence. "It really is true ya know."

"Hm?"

"I do love you. An' I'm so sorry I didn' tell ya sooner."

Setting aside the remainder of his cube, Prowl drew Jazz closer and into an embrace that was eagerly matched. "I didn't need the words said to know you did, it was perfectly clear by your actions. But getting to hear you say so is a treat even greater than I expected."

"So yer not upset it took so long?" Jazz pressed, shocked by that reaction. "Or even disappointed?"

"Never, love." Prowl tone was level, with just a touch of amusement that included no trace of mocking. "To either of those. We knew there were problems to work through when we started this, and that makes every little victory even more worth it."

"Ya've got a point..."

"I generally do. It's not my fault that my advice isn't always heeded."

"Smart-aft." The mock insult was accompanied by a gentle flick to a sensor panel because it was the nearest part Jazz could reach.

"Careful," Prowl cautioned, though there was no pain in his tone or body language. "Those are sensitive."

A smirk touched the saboteur's faceplates while it was still hidden from view before he pulled back. "Sorry. Kiss ta make it feel better?" Then Jazz was leaning in again to capture the tactician's lipplating, but soon he was the one melting into the kiss as Prowl reciprocated.

A careful, searching touch to a transformation seam running down his back had Jazz arching into the contact, but it was his low moan that broke their kiss when Prowl's fans kicked on. That seemed to draw him back, if only slightly.

"Pit, Prowl, stop..." Immediately those amazing and agonizingly wonderful touches ceased and Jazz almost took his previous statement back. Only the knowledge of how bad an idea this was stopped him. "Why ya gotta be such a slaggin' tease?"

"And what if that's not it at all?" Jazz could only stare at him, studying and searching as Prowl continued. "It's... I'm offering." His voice pitched softly, embarrassed, but he continued. "Take me. Fill me. Make me completely yours."

Jazz was utterly still for almost a klik before slowly moving. Cautiously, he traced a line from abdominal plating down to Prowl's interface panel, almost completing the path before speaking. "Ya really want this?"

The soft snap of the tactician's valve cover retracting could have been enough of an answer, especially paired with the slick entrance that met those careful digits. But Prowl managed a verbal reply too. "I do. I want you, Jazz, in whatever capacity is agreeable to you." There was just a tiny bit of strain to his words as he held back from trying to force anything without acceptance. "Although, I certainly hope that includes this at some point."

"Ya know this could blow up horribly again, don'cha?" Jazz slowly responded.

"I know, but I'm hoping a different approach gives better results."

Rather than replying verbally, Jazz leaned in for another processor-melting kiss. He'd been both wanting and dreading this moment and now that it was here he couldn't make himself say no, even though it was the safer option. Still, Prowl didn't do 'hopeful' without a plan so they just had to have faith it would work out well.

It was that very faith that convinced him it was a good idea to slide first one digit, then a second into the waiting entrance, immediately seeking out every sensor node he could reach. His reward was the most wonderfully moaned version of his designation he'd ever heard and Jazz quickly made it his goal to find out all the sounds he could wring from his amazing partner.

"Pit, yer so slick already."

"Been thinking about this for a while."

"Have ya now?" The tone was playful and received a quick but delayed nod. "Do tell... Just what sort of thoughts have been occupyin' that processor 'a yers?"

"You, always you... Sometimes this, sometimes just touch play." His answers came in between soft gasps as Jazz continued his stimulation. "Mostly though... mostly just riding you, with you filling me completely. Occasionally I even let you play with my sensor panels at the same time."

An excited engine rumble was the answer to that and Jazz only barely got his words out before claiming Prowl's lips again. "I think I like the sound a' that..."

This kiss was a bit slower, more sensual, as the saboteur withdrew his digits and moved into a better position. Without breaking the kiss, Prowl carefully reclined backwards, drawing Jazz with him until his own back was against the berth. Only when the position change registered did Jazz break the kiss, concerned.

"It won't hurt ya ta lay like that?"

"Not if we're careful, and I trust you not to intentionally hurt me."

Jazz had to pause again, startled by the amount of trust placed in him, but it was that same sensation that spurred him forwards. His spike was already out and pressurized, though he had no idea when that had happened. It hardly mattered though, the only important thing in the here and now was sharing time and enjoying one another.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he pushed into the welcoming valve. Pleasured sounds spilled from both of them as their equipment slid together perfectly, shooting each mech's charge even higher. There was no hope of keeping any sort of sedate pace after that and shortly they were falling into overload; Prowl going first and drawing Jazz over the edge.

When he came back from the bliss of an overload whiteout, Jazz withdrew and curled up beside Prowl, who accepted him into his arms without hesitation. "That went... better than I expected, actually," the Praxian mused softly.

"How d'ya mean?" Jazz inquired, curious. "Were ya expectin' me ta be a bad 'face or somethin'?"

"Nothing like that at all," Prowl explained quickly to remove his feigned sadness. "You were wonderful, even if it was a bit quick. But that is to be expected, all things considered." Jazz absently nodded against him, too content to be embarrassed although they had both overloaded extremely fast. "Really the question was if we'd trigger another episode for you..."

"But we didn' an' tha's good." Jazz only seemed to process the words after speaking them and suddenly drew back and up to catch Prowl's optics, his field wild with excitement. "I did it. We didn't set me off this time. That's good, right? Means I might finally be gettin' better?"

"I certainly hope so, but even if this is all we even get, I'm still ecstatic to be able to share with you."

"An' all ya had ta do was ply me with a bit a' highgrade," Jazz joked with a laugh but the statement made Prowl stiffen.

"You don't actually think that was my intention, do you?"

"Wouldn' fault ya fer it if ya had since it worked." He lay back down against Prowl, who was still tense. "But I know ya better than that so no, I don' think that was yer plan at all. Though now I am curious..."

It was nearly a klik before Prowl responded. "It was... to help with one of my own failings. I've never been the one to initiate before..."

"So a little 'lectric courage ta help ya out?"

"That was the general idea."

"And ya picked some 'a Side's stuff because...?"

"You've mentioned he's the best brewer on base and where else would I have gotten any?"

"Most officers and even a fair amount a' enlisted, those that don' get caught, have their own stashes, ya know. Myself included." The spy sat up and reached into his own subspace as he continued speaking. "It's funny 'cause if ya hadn't brought that out I was gonna try an' force some a' this on ya."

Prowl sat up too, in order to examine the shimmering cube that indicated an extremely high end Praxian high grade. "That's..."

"Yeah. Found it lookin' fer somethin' else and thought ya might like it better. Shame I only got a couple cubes though."

"I'm not surprised, with how rare it was."

"I know, still a shame though." Holding the cube out in offering, Jazz kept talking. "Ya want? There's no time like the present ta celebrate survivin' after all. An' yer not even expected on shift fer long enough ya can indulge jus' a little."

Prowl accepted the highgrade before reaching out again to catch Jazz and pull him in for a gentle kiss. "You are far too good to me, love."

"I'm jus' returnin' the favor after all ya've done fer me."

With nothing to say to that, the Praxian softly toasted with the mix from his homeland. "To our survival and that of those we care about."

"To healing and the future," Jazz toasted when the cube was passed back to him. His first taste was shocking, the highgrade even smoother than he expected and so light that it was almost like swallowing nothing at all.

"Wow..."

Prowl hummed his agreement as the highgrade was returned to him, his field pulsing in time with Jazz's as they settled together again.

They remained that way, nested together in blissful silence, until the cube was nearly gone, and only then did Jazz speak. "So, I was thinkin' and we should check an' make sure it wasn' just a fluke."

"Oh?" Prowl answered, though he had a fair idea already what the topic was. "That what wasn't a fluke?"

"Ya know... My reactions ta yer advances and all."

"You are insatiable," Prowl teased, but made no effort to hide the flash of arousal in his field at the words.

Jazz smirked at that. "But ya wouldn't want me any other way."

"No, I really don't think I would." Not about to let Jazz have the last word, he claimed a kiss to otherwise occupy his mouth. "Do as you want with me, love. I am utterly yours."

Taking the open invitation, Jazz began to freely explore his lover's frame. He knew the doorwings were sensitive and so left those alone for now, seeking out all the other hot spots he could find. A transformation seam on his side, a bundle of wires tucked into his left hip. Easy spots, expected spots. The chevron was a surprise though; he'd thought it to be merely decorative but even a soft touch garnered a low moan. Even without getting to the Praxian's sensor panels the mech was quickly reduced to a writhing mess on the berth beneath him.

"Jazz..." he pleaded when he could manage, and it was one of the most delicious things the spy had ever heard. "I _need_ you. Please..."

It was unlikely Prowl would last much longer this time but that was fine because with the heat and arousal between them and the erotic sight before him, Jazz knew he wouldn't last either. They definitely needed to play more to build better stamina and oh did he like that thought.

And then all ability to think was gone as he slid inside his lover. Prowl hadn't requested a change, had fostered a full repeat even, and it had worked this way already so Jazz didn't question it. Besides, it was all fun regardless and with the right partner it could be absolutely amazing. As it was now.

They fit together just right and with each thrust their energy built just a little bit higher until the pair reached their pinnacle, and promptly fell over the edge into the oblivion of overload. The cascade of sparks crackling along their frames hadn't even completely faded when they came to and readjusted to lay together.

"Love you, Prowl," Jazz murmured. "I really do."

"And I love you, Jazz."

They shared a simple kiss at that before slipping back into happy silence. There was no need for words and recharge was unnecessary, so for just a little while they could forget the war and pretend everything really was as perfect as it felt in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, this is definitely not the end yet. Someone likened this fic to a roller coaster at some point and given that analogy you could consider this the slow climb towards that final drop. You can see it coming but the wait to get there and the anticipation is killer.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meddling Optimus, domestic discussions, irritated Prowl and a lot of Jazz being his usual difficult self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, wow. This fic still lives even though it's been over a year since the last update. I hope you all enjoy the happy while it exists because there will be massive pain and heartbreak in future chapters. Whenever I get to them... Meanwhile, now we're gonna step sideways from the main plot for a little bit to build suspense while I poke at other happenings in the world. I had another big event brewing in the background but I forgot what so this might be a surprise to all of us.

“I am impressed,” was the greeting Jazz received the next evening when he graced the Rec Room to collect his ration. Looking around, he found the Prime watching him and an empty seat left available across from the mech. Sidling over to join the Autobot leader, Jazz couldn’t help a little bit of teasing in his return greeting.  
“I know I’m impressive, OP, so yer gonna have ta be a bit more specific.”

“Yourself and Prowl.” Jazz had to catch himself from sputtering Energon at that, which the Prime graciously ignored as he continued. “Ever punctual that mech is, yet you get to him for a night and he doesn’t show up until just before first shift was over?”

“What c’n I say? I’m jus’ that good,” Jazz joked. “If I weren’ already taken I might even show ya personally.”

“Are you trying to say that you convinced him with interfacing?” Optimus guessed, shocked. “He hardly seems the sort that would work on.”

“Think what ya will, my mech,” Jazz countered. “But you should hear the sounds ‘e makes when ya touch his wings jus’ right…”

“I did not just hear that and I don’t need to know.” The Prime even pantomimed offlining his audials in an attempt to get his point across.

Laughing, the spy relented. “I’m jus’ kiddin’ ya know. I ain’t about ta let anyone know any a’ the good stuff. Might hafta worry ‘bout attempts ta steal ‘im away from me.”

Optimus laughed as well at the unspoken joke. Few bots were likely to believe any of those stories, and fewer still would try to ‘steal’ the tactician from the Ops mech. Even if it was a possibility in and of itself, who would dare risk the wrath of such a dangerous bot?

“Just how did you get him to stay away then?” the Autobot leader asked, still curious.

“Trade secret.”

“In that case,“ Optimus chuckled lightly, “perhaps I don’t want to know.”

“E’ry bot’s gotta recharge sometime.” Jazz’s commentary was completely casual again now. “Even ‘im. An’ it was pretty late when I got ta him. Ya jus’ gotta make sure the alarm don’ go off and voila.”

“That’s incredibly domestic of you.”

The saboteur paused to think about that before laughing again. “I guess it is. Primus, am I gettin’ old ‘er what?”

"We all do eventually," Optimus answered in his sagely Prime way before resuming his normal teasing, to Jazz's immense amusement. "You just took much longer than the rest of us."

"'Ey now!" the spy cried, pretending to be hurt by that comment. "Just 'cause I like ta have fun occasionally don't mean I ain't jus' as mature as the lot a' ya."

"It does when your definition of 'occasional' is every other day." The twinkle in his optics showed because, really, Optimus did enjoy the minor mayhem just as long as it remained safe. "Then you seem even younger than Bumblebee or Bluestreak."

Jazz's look of indignant shock caused the Prime to lose his calm into a gentle laugh. The saboteur have one more glare to play up the act before allowing himself to laugh as well. Gentle, casual moments like this were wonderful treats and needed to be treasured.

“Speaking of domestic issues,” Optimus gently prodded as the laughter trailed off, “how is everything? No problems?”

“What’dya mean, OP? Like, ‘tween Prowl an’ I?” A simple nod was his answer. “We’re doin’ jus’ fine. Why would ya think any differ’nt?”

"I have heard concerns, and considerations...” Before he could say more, Jazz was cutting in.

"Please don' ask us ta separate. We ain't doin' anythin' bad or hurtful an' we're _happy_. I don' wanna give this, or him, up."

"At ease, Jazz. I was merely inquiring as to the life of a friend. I have no intention of stepping in unless this was harmful to you, but I can tell this is not the case."

That did manage to settle the spy somewhat, and he retook his seat upon realizing he’d jumped up out of it “Wha’s got ya so worried ‘bout me suddenly anyway, OP?”

"Prowl’s administrative skills and talents are considerable, but I had never heard about him taking an interest in anything or anyone outside of work so I had no way to judge his nature or intentions. As you are a friend, I was concerned for you.”

“So ya don’ think he’s secretly a ‘Con or somethin’ an’ just waitin’ ‘til ‘e’s fooled us all ta reveal ‘imself?”

“I should certainly hope such is not the case, given the importance of his role in this army.”

“Well good,” Jazz replied, just a bit of petulance coloring his wording. “‘Cause ‘e’s not.”

The Prime waited a short while as they sat in silence, sipping their Energon, before speaking again. “If it is agreeable to the both of you, I would like a chance to meet him off-duty? So I can try to see the same things in him that you’ve found?”

“I’ll mention it an’ see what he says, though his schedule’s awful busy.” Pausing only long enough for the larger mech to wilt fractionally, Jazz continued on with a sly expression creeping onto his faceplates. “But if ya promise ta have some good highgrade fer the meetin’, I might jus’ be able ta open his schedule right up.”

“You never will learn to respect authority, will you?”

“Right now ya ain’t my boss, Orion, but no, prob’ly not.”

The duo shared more laughter and then the Prime finished his cube and stood. “I’ll see what I can do. Comm me when you find an appropriate time?”

“A’course,” Jazz answered with a smirk. "An' don' forget, I know ya know my fav'rites."

~

Prowl was deep in thought when a voice finally burrowed into his processor and awareness. The tone suggested the other had been attempting to get his attention for some time already and a rapid playback of the previous few kliks revealed that his designation had indeed, been called several times, each in a slightly different way. Forcing his full attention back on the outside world took almost another klik but that was to be expected. He'd been deep in analyzing data and modifying plans accordingly, as anyone should be able to notice from the numerous datapads cabled together before him.

Finally capable of acknowledging his guest, Prowl was taken by surprise when he wasn't let to speak first. "Ya back with me yet, Prowler?"

"I was never gone anywhere, Jazz," the tactician replied calmly and smoothly.

"Maybe not physic'ly, but yer processor may as well a' been on Luna 1." The spy's reply was just as smooth, full of even more playful teasing. "Can' say I blame ya though," he continued as Prowl disconnected himself from the nearest datapad, and then it from the rest. "What with this mess here an' all."

"That rather is the most accurate term for it, I do agree." The first datapad vanished into his subspace and then he began collecting the rest from his desk.

"Woah," and here there was genuine surprise from Jazz. "Yer considerin' work a problem? Ya sure yer feelin' a'right, love?"

Prowl gave a soft glare as he opened a drawer. "Work hours," he automatically reminded Jazz. "And I'm simply speaking the truth. What few reports we do have are too scattered or lack appropriate detail to do anything with." He'd barely let the last datapad settle into the drawer before shutting it with enough force to make Jazz twitch at the unexpected sound. It was irritation though, not anger, that colored Prowl's field so the saboteur gave no other reaction than that of listening.  
"I now have to wait until the femme delegate arrives and _hope_ she brings useful intel just so I can attempt to decipher their plan. All before I can begin to consider countermeasures! And that's assuming all these out of place supposed details are even interconnected. I might simply be wasting my time chasing something that's not there at all."

It was the end of the idea and seemed to be the end of the rant so Jazz ventured to ask, "feel better now?"

Prowl gave an extended exvent before answering. "Yes. I'm sorry, this isn't your fault nor your problem to worry about."

"It's a'right. When ya gotta kvetch, ya gotta kvetch," Jazz acknowledged calmly. "But if yer done fer the day then I wanna take ya somewhere."

"Oh?" Prowl questioned.

"Yep!" The response was incredibly cheerful and that continued as Jazz did. "Ya won' even have ta leave the base."

"Where could you possibly have to bring me on base that is so important?"

Jazz let out a soft hum as he considered that for an astrosecond. "Nope, can't tell ya. It's a secret."

"I promise you, Jazz, there are precious few places I have not seen in this base and none of those I have or have not visited warrant such secrecy."

"Ops HQ?"

When Prowl remained silent, Jazz knew he'd won this round. The wing twitch nanokliks later only confirmed it. "C'mon then," he urged while heading for the door himself. "We got a bot waitin' on us so we should hurry."

That comment caught the Praxian's attention and as they made their way to the yet undisclosed location, he took a few attempts at guessing which Ops mech it might be until Jazz took pity on him. "Yer lookin' at e'rythin' wrong," he explained. "It ain't one a' my agents."

"You can't honestly expect me to believe you let any stray mech into restricted areas," Prowl countered before another thought occurred to him. "Unless there's a Decepticon for me to…

"Jazz, that's the Prime's quarters."

"Yup," the saboteur agreed as he stopped them beside said door.

"But you said-"

"No, you guessed," Jazz countered, enjoying the chance to properly tease his mate. "I never actually said where we were headin'."

Prowl paused to consider that for an astrosecond then ex-vented softly. He really couldn't argue the facts, especially when it was his own oversight causing the misunderstanding. "Alright, so why are we here then? Prime had the first shift and I haven't heard of any emergencies that require an officer meeting. Unless you somehow blocked the signal?"

"Nothin' so serious, Prowler." Jazz had to work quickly before the Second in Command decided there was a problem and involved others. "OP jus' wants a chance ta get ta know ya an' invited us ta visit."

"That's absurd, Jazz. We have worked together for decavorn, of course the Prime knows me, just as I do him."

"Sure," the Third in Command agreed. "No one's sayin' ya don't know Optimus, but do ya know anythin' 'bout Orion?"

Whether to something Jazz did or an internal signal, the door slid open just as Prowl was about to ask and Jazz all but dragged him inside. "C'mon Prowler, he jus' wants ta know ya off duty too. How bad could it go?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to include the meeting but I couldn't figure out how to begin it and I wanted to get something posted to show I'm not dead (much as it seems it sometimes) so here you are. Hopefully it wasn't /too/ bad....


End file.
